My job is all about adapting schedules, expectations and deliverables around clients’ unique needs. Adapt and deliver, that’s what I do best…but baby Baxter messes with my head. Just when you think he’s got a schedule, my basis for that conclusion disappears and all new ‘habits’ take hold.
We enjoyed two nights of bliss last week by putting Baxter down rather early in the evening. We cooked and ate our dinner while he slept blissfully in his bassinet on another floor of the house. We nestled on the sofa and caught up on some television (why this feels like a victory, I have no idea) then before our bedtime, we gave him a good feeding and a pit stop. Sweet.
For two evenings, we relished in this newfound routine. We turned a corner. Parenthood was allowing us some peace and time to ourselves. There was no turning back, we could only move onward and upward.
This is where the experienced moms are rolling their eyes or perhaps laughing a little. Of course those two days feel like a mirage now. For a full week we attempted to recreate our fleeting success—to almost superstitious efforts: “I’m sure we turned this light off and had the red blanket over here and, OH NO the temperature and humidity are all off in this room”. We were back to confused, tired new parents, seemingly outwitted by our own progeny.
But last night was different. As always, in our futile robotic reproduction we put Baxter down early and began doing whatever we could before we would be interrupted. Exhausted from a hot Sunday out, we started to do what we could to relax. Having learned something, we sat down to watch Marley & Me presuming it to be a vacuous light comedy we could half-watch. Well we watched it all (I bawled—who knew it was a vacuous modern day Old Yeller minus the froth?). Amy and I were then able to tidy up, chat, snuggle and… well, this is a family blog but let’s just say I can easily adapt to one evening a week like last night.