This weekend she asked me to be on night duty so she could get some sleep. I warily said okay, because the last time I was on night duty, Rory screamed all night long, I got maybe 2 hours of sleep and I really wasn't looking forward to that when I know that when Kim does it, she at least gets about 5 to 6 hours. In the end, how could I say no my wonderful wife and that cute little Rory mug.
Friday as you'd expect was a hot mess! He cried and whined and wouldn't sleep. I didn't get to bed until maybe 2 A.M. and then he was up at 4, and then again at 6. Why me? Then of course Saturday morning he was as calm as a slightly rabid koala. He was mostly just cute and clingy and cute. Throughout the day he stayed calm until the afternoon when nothing was going to calm him down at all. He was a tornado meeting a volcano. Unhappy and explosive. (He had some big mushy poops as well, thought you'd care to know.) Mommy tried to help him, Grammy tried to calm him, but get this, he only would calm down laying on top of daddy's chest. It was quite the feeling. (Kim and I are rather competitive. You should probably not play games against us. Most of our friends have banned us from playing on a team together.)
Rory and I relaxed though most of the day and about 9 p.m., Rory and I fell right asleep. He woke up about 1 A.M. to feed and then again at 3:30 so I could change the nastiest diaper I have ever seen and magically in that same second Kim decided to take him for the rest of the night. As soon as I passed him off, I instantly fell into a deep sleep and didn't wake up until 8.
Raise your hand if you had no idea how crazy it is to take care of a newborn. I am raising my hand high. I always loved babies and thought they were cute, but they are crazy, punky, and whiney.
"Don't call our baby a punk," Kim says.
"He's being a punk though."
"He's a baby, they cry."
Comic by Bitstrips