Bed, Bath and Beyond

My son is seven weeks old today, and we decided last night that its time to start a bedtime routine for him. He's been sleeping in our bed most of the time since we had him, since its the best way for all of us to actually get some sleep, but sad to say thus far his "bedtime routine" has consisted of falling asleep tucked in beside him mom while Hubby and I watch a DVD. Disgraceful, I know.

Anyway, in honour of trying to reclaim some semblance of normalcy, Hubby and I have been having Baboo start out in his own bassinet at the start of the night so we can still have some time to ourselves to cuddle, and then when he wakes up to eat for the first time he comes to sleep with me and I move to the foot of the bed. I know, it's weird, but safe bedsharing guidelines dictate that he not be anywhere near any furniture he could get wedged in between, and I'll be damned if I'm getting rid of my antique night tables. So baboo and I sleep at the foot of the bed for the rest of the night. It's actually the best of both worlds. I get my time in with my husband, and sweet snuggles from my son.

I never understood bedsharing until I actually had a baby of my own. I just thought the parents were weak and couldn't say no to their child, but now I understand that it's actually totally wonderful and natural to have your baby beside you at night. Seems natural to me, anyway. And that way I can feed him without either of us having to wake up fully. Plus, I'm neurotic, and instead of having to sit up in bed and strain to check on him all night to make sure he's okay, I just have to open my eyes to know that he's fine.

Anyway, this turned into a testimonial on bedsharing, which it wasn't meant to be. I was going to talk about our new bedtime routine.

First our Sweet Baboo and I take a bath (I wear a bathing suit, apparently I'm shy), then we put on the Beatles' lullaby CD and do infant massage, then I swaddle him and offer him some milk, which he will always take because he's always hungry. After he eats I rock him to sleep and recite Good Night Moon, then stick his pacifier in his mouth if he'll take it (he won't always) and then put him in his bassinet. He's sleeping peacefully as I type, which is kind of a surprise. Last night his pacifier kept falling out of his mouth and he kept waking up and fussing til I put it back in. I'm surprised his eyes didn't pop open as soon as I put him down. Must be the full moon.

It's such a romantic night out there, but unfortunately I still have not been cleared by my doctor for sex. I'd ask the hubby to sit on the balcony with me and have a glass of wine, but we just moved and our patio furniture is still in my parents' basement.

So instead I'll sweep the house, which is ripe with dust bunnies while my adorable but goofy husband laughs uproariously at a Seinfeld episode we borrowed from the library. Yep, the full moon had inspired some WILD behaviour in this household.

The pictures in tonight's blog post are of our bath, my sweetie sleeping adorably in his bassinet, and the full moon as I see it from our balcony. Enjoy.

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