There was this movie when I was growing up about a high school girl who was a Straight A student during the day and a hooker at night.
Jack is the baby equivalent of that girl except that he’s not really out on the corner hookin’.
During the day he smiles (he smiles!), gurgles and blissfully plays on his back and his tummy. He takes 2 to 3 naps, sometimes in his swing, sometimes on me, sometimes in his crib. One of his favorite things is to rub his hands together, Mr. Burns style and chill out. In other words, he’s an awesome baby…during the day.
At night? Well that’s a different story.
Snarfing, snuffling, more yowling, grunting and general complaining are how our evenings go, and that’s just from Arch. Oh, wait, Jack makes those noises also.
Getting Jack to sleep at night is like giving a cat a bath. He wrestles, he screeches, he scratches (damn those baby fingernails are sharp!) and then finally, after crying for two hours straight and finding no solace in a bottle nor my rendition of Cecilia, he will suddenly acquiesce.
And then he’s so peaceful and quiet that nothing, not even the dude shouting I LOVE YOU at the top of his lungs over and over again at 4AM on our street corner, can wake him. That is. Until it is time to lather, rinse and repeat.
