Uh oh, my baby appears to have a brain

If you'd told me a couple of weeks ago that Little Red's got a brain on him and knows how to get what he wants, when he wants I would've said "Pish!" and told you to get your head checked. If you told me that now though, I would solemnly nod my head in agreement and say "Why yes, you're right on the money with that one, dear."

How did I come to this conclusion, you ask? I credit it to a cold, hard slap in the face with the realisation that my sweet little angel is growing up and therefore, getting ready to push them boundaries further and further. And further.

So a week before Chrimbo, the wee man starting sprouting some teeth. He was a tad grumpy, a tad clingy and (more than) a tad sleepless. Our amazing nighttime sleepasaurus now saw fit to wake up at 9pm-ish as well as 2am for a feed. OK, I thought, it's alright, he's just sore and grouchy and soon enough he'll back to his old sleepy time habits and we'll all get a decent night's kip again. Nope. We got through the festivities and went on holiday where things began to get worse. Sleeping in a small bach with three other people, one doesn't feel inclined to let their baby "cry it out" so for the sanity of the household I cuddled and fed Redford whenever he woke. Sometimes he woke once, other times he woke three or four times.

Our first two nights back home, however, were fine. Little Red had me tricked into thinking he was back into the swing of big boy sleeping - with tricked being the operative word here, every night for the past two weeks he's been waking anytime between 9 and 11pm (sometimes more than once) and then at 2am as well as any amount of times between 3 and 7am. I try leaving him but he just screams to the point where I'm pretty sure I'm slowly losing hearing in one ear even though his room is across the hall.

Then the night before last I had an epiphany. Little Red was crying in his cot so, realising he wasn't going back to sleep anytime soon, I picked him up and he stopped. I put him back in and he started again. Then I got him out once more and.... silence. I gave him a wee feed thinking perhaps he needed a top up. He didn't. He just lay there in my arms cooing away and grinning like the cat that got the cream. The little (ahem) rascal. And me! What had I done?! All that hard work getting him to settle himself and I'd gone and erased it all in one foul swoop.

So after about four hours of sleep last night I decided this morning that I would keep a close eye on this behaviour to see how it evolved. Apparently I've been wandering around with a cheeky-baby shaped veil over my eyes for the past few weeks because as soon as I started to really take note of what was going on I saw Redford's little brain ticking over in the cold, harsh light of day. The boy's been taking me for one hell of a ride and I've been lolling about in the "he's-too-little-to-know-what-he's-doing" cart picking my bloody fingernails.

Another example of the tot's wily ways is mealtimes. The boy's hungry but thinks it's funny to clamp his mouth shut when the spoon hits those lips. He also has loads of fun knocking his sippy cup or throwing his crackers on the floor and then leaning right out of his highchair to stare at them until you pick them up (upon which he repeats said cracker throwing). And, in the last couple days, he's grown ever so partial to throwing the odd tantrum in his highchair (complete with swinging fists and bouncing bottom) when he'd rather be playing. All of this, of course, had gone straight over my head until today when I realised exactly what he was up to and decided two could play at that game but there would be only one winner (me). He clamps his mouth shut, I daub a bit of food on the tray to distract him and ta da! The gob magically opens up. He throws his crackers off, I pick them up, say "all gone" and put them on the table for him to see that they're not coming back. Needless to say, he soon gets bored of that game. And my answer to his I'd-rather-be-wreaking-havoc-elsewhere tantrums? I simply ignored him. I sat there with my head turned the other way until he got bored and started twiddling his thumbs.

Ha! I win! Having said that though, I have yet to see how tonight's sleep will go. Nick and I will be going back to the controlled crying technique from now on to (fingers crossed) battle those late night whinge marathons. As we speak, I am steeling myself for a night of snatched shut eyes in between screams. Sheesh. Watch this space - hopefully I'll survive the night with my hearing and my sanity in tact!  

PS. We attacked the midnight tantrums with gusto last night - Little Red woke up at 10pm crying, I knew he couldn't be hungry and it was nice and toasty in his room so we stealthily enforced the controlled crying again and it worked.... eventually. An hour later of me popping my head round the door every 5, 10 then 15 minutes and saying "Night, night sweetheart. I love you" he was asleep and didn't wake again til 4am! Yippee! I did feed him at 4 though and he was hungry but perhaps in a few weeks we'll tackle the 4am wake-ups. Baby steps, baby steps.

Follow-follow up: Since above PS Redford has been sleeping 6pm-4am and then after a wee feed he's back in the land of nod until 8am! Awesomeness.