When Jory was very small and not able to move around so much, he usually looked like he'd been flopped flat on his back and forced to sleep that way. Which, of course, he was.
Now that he's older and somewhat mobile, the term "sleeping like a baby" is a joke. While he no longer emits the preemie grunts all night, he still snores and manages to explore just about the entire space of his crib. In this next picture, he's managed to get both an arm and a leg out of his pajamas, as well as smash himself up against the edge of the crib.
When you take your new parent classes before the baby comes, the hospital staff spend most of their time trying to convince you that unless you worry obsessively, your baby will succumb to SIDS. Because you're a terrible, terrible parent. What they don't tell you is that once the baby can move by himself, he can generally also unmove. So I managed to not panic when I found Jory like this one afternoon:
I pulled his hand away from the bumper, but he stuck it right back up there and hung on. We figured that since he can move himself, protecting his giant head from the constant beatings it was taking against the crib slats was more important than worrying about him somehow managing to suffocate himself.
Parenting is exhausting. But at least Jory's getting the sleep he wants. ;)
Now that he's older and somewhat mobile, the term "sleeping like a baby" is a joke. While he no longer emits the preemie grunts all night, he still snores and manages to explore just about the entire space of his crib. In this next picture, he's managed to get both an arm and a leg out of his pajamas, as well as smash himself up against the edge of the crib.
When you take your new parent classes before the baby comes, the hospital staff spend most of their time trying to convince you that unless you worry obsessively, your baby will succumb to SIDS. Because you're a terrible, terrible parent. What they don't tell you is that once the baby can move by himself, he can generally also unmove. So I managed to not panic when I found Jory like this one afternoon:
I pulled his hand away from the bumper, but he stuck it right back up there and hung on. We figured that since he can move himself, protecting his giant head from the constant beatings it was taking against the crib slats was more important than worrying about him somehow managing to suffocate himself.
Parenting is exhausting. But at least Jory's getting the sleep he wants. ;)
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