On Sleep

I will swaddle you, swaddle you wherever you may go...

The first question that strangers or acquaintances ask upon meeting Milo is inevitably, "How's he sleeping?"  It's a fair question, as most new parents struggle to get long stretches of sleep with an infant around.  It's a generic question, too, and meant in the spirit of somewhat jolly but detached interest; it's less invasive than "How are his bowel movements?" or "How is his penis healing after you genitally mutilated him in the name of tradition?" but it's actually kind of fraught if the answer is "Crappy," or "Only intermittently."

As you can see from the picture, Milo will take a catnap almost anywhere, including on his grandparents' couch.  He is also starting to take pretty solid naps in his crib and will sleep two to three and a half hour stretches in the night in his nursery.  But at seven weeks and counting, most people seem to want to hear that he's sleeping through the night, and grimace awkwardly when they hear his personal best, which was close to four hours...once.  I'm pretty sure he'll be fine; his circadian rhythms will kick in for realz, and he'll start pumping his own melatonin soon, and we'll be good to go.  Until then, it would be nice if people would just comment on his pretty eyelashes or his solid head of hair or his rose petal mouth (don't worry, Milo's a sensitive new-age guy, you can compliment him on that, he doesn't mind).  Until then, we'll just continue putting little deposits in the sleep bank, and keep on truckin'.