Restless Night

I went to bed around 2:30am last night, waiting for Ethan, who had been sleeping contently on the couch, to wake up for his night-time feed which normally occurs around that time. I did not want to wake him by moving him to the bed earlier than this. And I wanted for Kelly to get as much sleep as possible before bringing Ethan in to our room. And so I was up.

2:30 am comes around and, like clockwork, Ethan wakes. I tried to put him back to sleep by patting him gently, but only carrying him would work, so I just took him to Kelly.

Before I knew it, my blurry eyes witnessed my alarm clock's over-sized bright red digits reading, "3:45" and "4:58" and "5:55", and meanwhile I had slept in my bed, on the couch and on the floor just outside the door to our closet. Ethan woke up three times last night (which has not happened since he was 2 months old or so... or at least not the past couple of weeks).

When 6:30am rolled around, Kelly had long since left the house for work, and Ethan was completely bright-eyed and ready to start his day. He would sing, and babble, and wave his arms round (his hand clenched in tiny baby fists), and kick his legs about, and if you pretended not to notice his purposeful motions, he would be sure you did not sleep.

So, up we go, Ethan and dad, playing and singing and exercising, all before 7am (less than 5 hours since my head first hit my warm, soft, cozy pillow).

Thankfully, mom was about getting up at this time and took over with Ethan while I could catch an extra three hours or so of rest... which suited Ethan just fine I'm sure, since gran is quite good at singing and reading to him and I can tell he enjoys this early morning time with her.

Sweet Cry (Well Sort Of)

When Ethan was but a couple seconds old, I whispered to Kelly and told her how much I loved Ethan's sweet, melodious cries. For one, you know his lungs are working and he is going to be ok. But there is something about the vulnerable and shaky voice of a newborn - a premie at that - that seriously melts hearts. And I suppose it has not been so long that I still can recall his cries as if he was born yesterday.

Now fast forward to present day, well, night, and the little guy and his man-sized lungs give out these cries - no shreaks - that are anything but cute. But poor guy, I think Ethan has colic. Many babies have this. They have all this gas building up and I think it is quite painful and discomforting to them and he just screams and screams.

Kelly's mom, though, has this truly uncanny ability to comfort Ethan.

Parents are amazing. Thanks moms and dads. How you managed to have multiple children and worked and had successful careers I have no clue how you did it. Fatherhood has been good so far. Even though we had mom all this time, I am still exhausted. What to do? I am only looking after Ethan here and there with the majority of the time in the hands and eyes of mom.

Kelly and I are already planning on training Ethan to sleep longer through the night. Of course, this means being strong and not being quick to console him when he cries when we put him to sleep on his own. It is now, when he is young and patterns and habits of sleep are still very changeable, then later on when he is older (say closer to one year) when it will be more difficult to train him. There is a ton of different opinions and literature on this matter, and even family, siblings, parents, and in-laws, all of whom care for Ethan will likely differ in what they think is the best approach to training Ethan.

But like a wise friend who recently went through the same experience told us, everyone has a breaking point - a time when the cries simply do not elicit the same consoling reaction/response.

So, Ethan joon, we love you, but some tough sleep regimen we'll soon be implementing.