#3under2 – Thirteen Weeks Old

Life is, believe it or not, into a routine by now.

Of course, we are going stir-crazy because it’s been bitterly cold the past couple of weeks, and between that and our potty training, the four of us are stuck at home staring at the same four walls.

I’ve been getting out to do some photoshoots for my instagram feed, and my babysitter takes the girls out for at least a little walk, so we’re all getting some fresh air, but the afternoons just stretch on and on and on and on…. and we won’t even talk about Sunday.

(Sometimes I do wonder what it would be like to live in EY where there’s no real “Sunday” in the no-school, no-work, no-anything kind of way. I guess there are pros and cons to the schedule there.)

In babyland – we’ve started leaving him to give him the opportunity to fall back asleep after his short naps – which is miserable for all of us, so we won’t talk about it now. And he’s finally in his own room!

It’s funny because I thought I’d have him out of my room by the time he was 2 weeks old. My twins made so much noise in their sleep, and, even though in real life I’m a deep sleeper, when they’re right next to me (my bedroom’s not that big!), I go onto high alert and wake up from the smallest noises.

But I liked having him in the same room as me – I liked being able to wake up from him just waking and making “I’m hungry” noises and not even waiting for him to cry before I fed him.

The things we can get used to.

So even though I usually recommend 6-8 weeks as the best time to move your newborn out… I didn’t follow my own advice.

And we finally just moved him out when, after two consecutive nights, he woke up just from me walking into the room to get into bed.

No way, G!

And guess what?

I was right.

I should have done it when he was 6-8 weeks.

Because now, at 3 months old, he’s a whole lot more aware of what’s going on, and he did NOT want to be in this new bedroom that was different than what he was used to. No, siree. Protest at bedtime for two nights was my reward for waiting longer than I should have.

Moral of the story: when you know what you’re talking about, listen to yourself.

(Of course, I’ll probably do it all over again with the next baby. Women. Go figure.)

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