Guess who finally woke up? Yep. Luca decided sleeping 22 hours a day wasn’t for him. Fortunately, he didn’t wake up very angry. He doesn’t really cry that much. Unless you put him down.
Luca wants to be held by his mommy. All the time. If you set him down while he’s asleep and he wakes up not in her arms, watch out. It sounds like stepping on a cat’s tail. With cement shoes.
I can understand. Look at his alternatives.
A chair that swings so hard he is constantly in danger of being pitched across the living room and into our faux fireplace.
A bouncy seat with a demented, dangling plastic lion and his equally evil plastic elephant. I imagine he believes they speak to him. “Sure. Go ahead. Fall asleep, Luca. I hope you don’t mind us biting your toes while you rest…”
And then there’s the floor. I can’t imagine why he doesn’t want to lay on the floor. A surface covered with Grover leavings and 2 ½ years of Elijah goo. Maybe he wouldn’t fuss so much if we gave him a HAZMAT suit.
So, yes. Along with trying to get Eli to eat (his latest attempt at attention getting is a hunger strike), Diana has to cart around Luca. She has taken to wearing her “Breast Friend” tutu all the time. It has a little ledge she can plop Luca. He just lays there observing all he rules like a miniature Cleopatra.
My paternity leave ended and I’m back at work. Last night, Luca sensed this and decided he would institute a no sleep rule for Sunday nights. Again, he didn’t really howl. He just scratched around and “Meh-ed” all night. Diana, bless her, attempted to let me sleep and deal with the night owl.
This morning while I was getting Eli his soon to be uneaten breakfast, I noticed Diana is starting to get that 1,000 yard stare Vietnam vets got when they had to go back into country.
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