Jack settled himself into a sleep routine very early in his young life. It isn't a good routine, but it is almost always like clockwork. A typical night has been:
11:00 p.m. Jack falls asleep in my arms. I tuck him into his Snuggle Nest and I get some sleep too.
2:30 a.m. Jack wakes up, hungry and fussy. I feed him and he falls asleep in my arms again. Efforts to put him back into his Snuggle Nest are completely in vain, so I hold him and rock him.
3:30 a.m. Jack is sufficiently asleep for me to return him to his Snuggle Nest.
4:00 a.m. Jack is awake and realizes he's no longer being held. Fussing commences. I pick him up and hold him.
4:30 a.m. Jack is asleep again. Until I place him into the Snuggle Nest. Then he opens one accusing little eye and winds up for a big, big cry.
5:00 a.m. I make coffee and turn on the morning news. My night is over.
And then, a miracle happened. More specifically, the Miracle Blanket happened. I purchased our Miracle Blanket when Jack was about four weeks old, but I didn't really use it much. The various flaps confounded me, and the fact that it bore more than a passing resemblance to an actual straight jacket disturbed me. When I've swaddled him with it, Jack has busted out of the swaddle within a few hours and with little effort. (Don't worry, I'm getting used to being outsmarted by my baby. My ego can take it). This week I decided to renew my efforts with the Miracle Blanket, but this time I brought in my secret weapon: Daddy, the Master Swaddler.
I love my husband for countless reasons. When we first met, I loved his genuine love of life, his ability to make me laugh, and the fact that he's a total hottie helped too. When we purchased our home, I loved his Mister Fixit skills and the pride that he took in our home. Now that we have a son together, I have grown to love the paternal adoration he has for his boy, but on a more practical note, I really love his mad swaddling skills. My husband can swaddle the baby with the speed of a ninja, one handed, upside-down and underwater while reciting the alphabet in German. With the Miracle Blanket, he is a swaddling force like no other. So last night, Jack experienced the Miracle Blanket, Daddy style.
And this is what I experienced:
11:00 p.m. A swaddled Jack hits the hay. He's actually asleep before Daddy can tuck the last tail into the swaddle. Wow. I'm sold. I may get a solid four hours of sleep tonight.
2:30 a.m. I wake up, apparently out of habit and Jack hasn't stirred. I make sure Jack is breathing, and he is. I tickle his nose until he reacts. He scrunches his nose and falls back to sleep. And so do I.
3:30 a.m. Awake again, I peer over the side of the Pack and Play. Eyes are closed, still breathing. I go back to sleep.
4:30 a.m. I wake up again. Okay, surely Jack is awake by now? Maybe he's playing quietly. Maybe I was so tired that I slept through his cries! No, he's still sleeping. This is...weird. Something must be wrong. I feel his forehead and he feels fine. Huh.
5:30 a.m. I wake up with a strong desire for a cup of coffee. Jack is still asleep. I'm not sure what to do with myself now, so I stare at the ceiling for awhile listening to Jack breathing.
6:15 a.m. I can't stand it anymore. I wake Jack up. I unwrap the swaddle and change his diaper as he slowly wakes. My baby is well rested and content.
Thank you, Miracle Blanket. I'm so ridiculously well-rested today. Tonight, we'll be watching the Miracle Blanket turn water into wine. I'm convinced this thing can do anything.