Thursday, January 06, 2005
[ASIDE: The workers offered to move it for Evelin, but since this is a rental (the T.R.U.C.K. is at the body shop this week) she didn't think she should let anyone else drive it. So two of the neighbors were outside and Evelin asked them to watch Celeste while she drove up the hill to park.]
So, when I get home a bit before 1:00 p.m., I have to walk a ways from where I parked and Evelin has to walk a ways to where she parked. Celeste is sleeping, so Evelin meets me on the porch to hand over responsibility saying that she left me a note on the computer.
Celeste will be hungry around 2:30–3:00Cool: A crib sheet. So, when the crew outside shifts what it's doing at about 12:50 and Celeste wakes up (she sleeps through the noise fine, it's just a change in the noise:quiet or house shaking:house not shaking ratio wakes her), I figure I still have a bit of time before she's going to want to eat.
Watch for tired signs ≈ 11⁄4+ hours after waking.
2 bottles of 2 oz. each are in the fridge.
In retrospect, I should have realized the work outside pausing is what woke her because she was still a bit crabby even if she didn't seem sleepy. Instead, I tried a couple of games and toys (as well as a diaper change), and she settled into a pretty happy period.
The problem (as anyone who's already done the math has probably figured out), 12:50 + 75 minutes = a bit past 2:00, which is leading into the "probably hungry" time zone.
I saw some yawns and thought, okay, let's get a bottle into her and then it's off to nap land. About 25 minutes of screaming later, sleep won the day (or at least the next half hour). She woke with another pause in the work, and it's been about 40 minutes of sobbing and taking maybe two tugs at the bottle at a time in between. Right now, she's happy-ish in her bouncy chair, looking tired, but not falling asleep. And every time I offer that bottle she twists her head back and forth and gives it such a look of disdain... I wish she'd eat something, but I guess this is better than the screaming.
© 2003–2010 T. Carter Ross