The whole parenting thing was getting so much easier and we were doing so well. He was down to one bottle just before bed, which he sometimes didn’t even bother with and he was sleeping so well. Night night Mama at 7.30pm every night without fail and waking in the 6’s but that just goes with the territory of having children I guess. Then something happened.
I think he heard me bragging about the bottle fairies. I was so excited, I had it all planned that we would give the bottle to the bottle fairies (via the fairy door from @irishfairydoorcompany) and then a couple of weeks later potty train him night and day in 3 days. My friend did it and sent me her notes and it was basically fool proof. Too Easy!
I thought it would be best to start on our return from Ireland when the jet lag was over. I was even thinking of the little card and present the fairies would leave for him the next morning in place of the bottles they took. The day after he heard me bragging he started saying ‘Bokkie time’ at the usual kind of 6pm bottle time before bed which was just down right cute. It was accompanied by a little dance which pulled on every heart string. Then the next day he asked for a bottle at lunchtime. Hmm, weird, but I gave him a cup of milk with a straw.
Within a few days he had basically cut out all food apart from…wait for it…organic granola…. bottles were requested at any time of the day and then numerous times a night. What the fuck! Except unlike a new born who has a cry for survival, the dude was standing up in his cot and flinging every teddy and dummy out of the cot while shouting at the top of his voice ‘Bokkie time’. No longer cute, no longer pulling on heart strings. When each dummy hits the wooden floor at force it sounds like an avalanche.
We run off a survival of the fittest at 3am, my hubbie and I. I am amazing at pretending to be asleep and he can’t doze through the ‘Bokkie time’ chants so invariably he ends up getting up to him. Haha result! In fairness to the little yodeler he skulls the bottle then says tata and hands it back and goes back asleep. Or rather he did. Last night, I only half filled the bottle. Big mistake. When the milk was gone he started throwing it at the bars of the cot. Repeatedly. What have I done to deserve this lack of sleep?
I think this is all a bit of toddler regression. He is also a fan at the moment of dropping his day time nap. My favourite part of the day where currently I want to spend the hours watching Narcos and not rocking him to sleep. I hadn’t rocked him to sleep since he was 4 months old and now guess what…its back. With a vengeance. He now weighs about 14 kilos, mind you I don’t know how because he eats nothing, doesn’t sleep and never stops moving. The hubbie has been away for what feels like forever with work too so I have no choice but to do what I can to get him asleep each time. Rock Rock Rock, shh shh shh, then I look down to check if he is asleep and he cracks up laughing and says ‘hehe not funny’. Well, let’s see how funny he thinks it is when Dad’s back on duty tonight and Mama puts water in the night-time bottle!