Writing Every Day When You Have a Six-Month-Old Baby

Of all the crazy things I’ve tried to do in my life, blogging every day this month while my six-month-old teethes is right up there.

I can barely form a sentence with my mouthparts, never mind write things down and have them make sense to a person who’s used to getting more than two hours of sleep at a stretch.

On the other hand, I can really use the outlet. I’ve been promising myself that I’ll spend more time with real people and less time online, but I tend to make that promise when the baby accidentally forgets to wake me up every 45 minutes all night long. In reality, talking to internet friends is about as much as I can expect from myself, given that it’s actually dangerous for me to operate heavy machinery at this point. I’m not sure it’s wise for me to drive to a friend’s house to see them in person.

Last night, Baboo woke up every 45 minutes unless she was sleeping on me. Ordinarily, I might try to catch a guilty nap in the chair while holding her, but she was committed to lying with her head hanging waaay out over the armrest, and I just didn’t dare. So I really have no idea if I’m writing actual human words at this point. Apologies if it’s just a keyboard smash and a loop of sobbing (mine).

Pictured: a woman who can definitely sustain a daily blogging practice.

Your Baby Doesn’t Sleep, So Just Stop Lying About It

My baby is sleeping on me right now.

This is semi-against the rules, because we’re trying to get her used to sleeping in a crib so I can get more work done. But she’s teething and I hope to God one of these teeth break out soon, because we’ll all be in the funny farm by next week otherwise.

Baboo is actually a pretty good sleeper, as these things go. She generally goes to bed around 9 or 10, after only two or three hours of coaxing and cajoling, and sleeps until 5 or 6 am, with only one wakeup during the night.

This would be plenty of sleep, but I’m a freelancer, and I generally have about two hours of work to do after she goes to bed. So I don’t go to sleep until midnight, and am typically running on about four hours of broken sleep after my nights on.

Adam and I alternate, to spread the suffering. But while his job involves long hours and impossibly early wakeup times, it doesn’t require working late and then getting up at the crack.

So I am beat. It’s pretty bad, you guys. It’s at the point where I’m afraid to drive a car or operate heavy machinery. The other day, I swear to you that I fell asleep while I was pushing the baby carriage. Just blacked the fuck out for about a minute and a half and woke up a block later.

I told Adam that and he said, “OK, we have to make some changes. You can’t be that sleep-deprived all the time.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “Like what?”

We eventually settled on trying to get Baboo to sleep in her crib at naptime, which she’d prefer not to do, because it’s nicer to snooze on Mommy and Daddy. But then I started breaking the rules because I’m weak and her tooth hurts.

Meanwhile, several people have been kind enough to share with me that their little angel sleeps 15 hours a night, in a crib, uninterrupted, and takes naps at the snap of a finger.

Actually, I’m reasonably sure some of them claimed their baby was clicker-trained, like a particularly smart show dog. But again, I’m sleep-deprived, so take my memory for what it is: very shoddy and not to be trusted.