Phew! So I thought I wouldn't mess with nap, but Ian started his nurse-down, no-wait-I'm-awake-now dance. He was obviously tired, yet distracted by every little thing. So we put him in the crib and soothed him and walked away. Thirty minutes, three checks, sad-mad baby falls asleep. Poor little guy. But I know that the result is worth working towards. A little time for just me is important these days. The second round of comforting, I banged my hip on the child-gate on the stairs. Full-speed crash metal against bone. Ouch! And it's the reminder that I need grounding. When I feel sick (like I do) and when I mess with my emotional stability (like letting my baby cry when I want to scoop him up and love him up and make it all better), I lose my place in the world. Doctors say that since my nueropathy cannot accurately place myself in space, I tend to bump into corners, drop objects, and misjudge distances. I depend on visual cues for balance.
So slow down. Slow on down.
Thirty minutes isn't bad. Wonder how bedtime will play out . . .