Like a champ

I knew from the night before last when she was running her little hands back and forth across the crib bars like a convict with a tin cup that our baby had the soul and grit of a prisoner.

Night two of exile, she resigned herself to her fate. After a couple of back-patting reassurance visits around 9 and 10 ish, and a weird, but amusing, laughing/gleeful squealing before self-soothing episode around 11, she slept right through until 7 am. Special shout-out to my Sharper Image sound machine and its “surf’s up” setting.

She is such a good little baby.  And thank god, because her stupid parents tried to stay up to watch the WSOP final table (and failed since it went on until 5 am).

Exile island

Remember that game-changing twist in Survivor where they banished a contestant to a separate camp, alone, away from the tribe? That’s what we did with our daughter last night. Yup, she spent her first night in her real crib, in her own room. While I’ve heard many moms say they looked forward to getting baby out of their bedroom, I can’t say I shared this sentiment. What can I say, I’m a “keep your enemies close” kinda gal.

She’s been napping in there for months, so she’s “used to it”, but night time is a whole different ballgame, apparently. It was pretty fussy going from about 9 pm until about 1 am, although we’ve been dealing with some new night-waking issues off and on for the past couple of weeks (more on that in the next monthly update) so it’s hard to say if the switch of venue was entirely to blame. In fact, we had sort of decided that recently we were most likely waking her up at night with our ramblings and rumblings as much as the other way around, which was part of the reasoning for the transition away from our room.

I couldn’t leave her in total isolation, so we assigned a kitty cat “lovey” and a mermaid to the task, while mom slept with the stuffed mouse and the monitor.

I’m willing to chalk this one up as a win. After one last comfort feeding around 10:30 (she had gone down at 7:20), we would just go in and rub her back and talk to her every so often when she fussed (which was about every half hour until 1ish) and she would resettle. And then she slept. Until my husband got her up at 6:30 and brought her back to bed with me, where she belongs.

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