- By trade I am a journalist with a background in current affairs, culture, health and fitness, travel and high profile interviews. I also own and run an outdoor fitness business aimed at people that hate gyms and bootcamps (www.spartanfitnesslondon.co.uk). Most importantly though, I am on Shared Parental Leave from May 31 to October 3. Everyday from 0730 to 1800 I will be in sole charge of a real and completely awesome baby girl.
Tuesday, 21 June 2016
DAY 21 - NAP-TIME NINJA
TO COINCIDE with me being desperate to catch up on some Zs the poor lady hardly slept which meant both of us parents were in action most of the night. The savage cough had returned. The Milk Lady insists that A-bomb hasn't been smoking but I'm going to start checking her pockets.
Not much shut-eye was had between 0500 and 0700 so my goal was to get a decent sleep shift in the bag at 0900. MLady did not want to cooperate though. She was pretty much asleep on my shoulder but each time I put her down in the cot she jumped out of her skin and began to cry. This was not the norm and my diagnosis was that lying flat as causing her discomfort. Half an hour went by, twinkle twinke had been exhausted in all of its forms, the little girl at the end of the lane had been given too many bags of wool, and nobody believed "life was but a dream" after the amount of boat rowing they had done.
Eventually, after another 15 minutes of speed squats laden with A-bizzle, she was in a deep sleep and I had successfully pulled my trembling arms from under her. That was the first part of Mission Nap done. Now I needed to conquer the next almost impossible task... the exit.
There were traps everywhere, from crinkly play-mats and perilous plastic ball trip-hazards to recently-filled nappies and musical instruments. A toenail brushing against any of those items would have seen my cover blown and the wannabe-sleeper's eyes pinging open.
A woken baby was not an option so I prepared myself mentally for the covert job. After uttering my final rendition of Amazing Grace I stooped down below the top rail. I was out of sight, even for the laser-eye lady. Next I was into a commando crawl, moving over the narrow carpeted thoroughfare being sure to dodge the Cow in case it wanted to "do you ABC". I had reached the end of the cot, located next to the final hurdle – the door.
I was hunched down with one hand softly holding the silver door handle and the other stabilising my body. So far so good, no murmurings. As with most gauntlet challenges the last part was the most difficult...getting out of the room without being seen or heard, then re-shutting the door.
I carefully pulled down the exit handle. It creaked but I got away with it. At the precise moment of the pull-down, I rose to my feet and nonchalently removed my body using the means of a silent twirl. Once out I just had to lower the handle and wait for the little click. Click. I could breathe again.
Given the importance of a baby's sleep and overall routine to its well-being it baffles me that during NCT classes no time is devoted to operating like a ninja.
If it means your baby will stay alseep you must be prepared to throw yourself to the deck on the slightest flinch of your nemesis. You must be ready to hurl yourself out of the room as soon as the gap becomes big enough.
If you are a heavy breather, you must hold your breath. A sleeping baby takes precedence.