Miss M sleeps through the night - sort of. She goes to bed at 8pm and wakes up at 6:30am. She doesn't need a bottle in the middle of the night, she doesn't need to be held or comforted. BUT... she does need to have her chicken wing amputated.
Once, twice, maybe even three or four times a night Miss M gets herself stuck in various uncomfortable positions. She's starting to toss and turn a lot, so she's starting to get her feet caught in the bars of the crib, and starting to bonk her head on the wood en-board. The most ridiculous of these late night acrobatics is when she somehow manages to wiggle her arm inside the sleeve of her PJs and double it up - so she looks like she has a chicken wing. She doesn't like chicken wings. Another weird one is when she manages to sit herself up in her crib, but she's sleeping, so she's kinda confused and pissed off that she's sitting up.
Daddy is her savior, if she didn't have him to remedy her contorted little body I don't know what she would do.
No comments:
Post a Comment