Wiggle, Pop, Pop!

Jude must have been Houdini in his past life.

This kid will work at it for as long as it takes to painstakingly rid himself of a swaddle. He starts by wiggling his legs...effectively loosening the swaddle from below. Once he has his feet free, he flops like a fish out of water until he frees one arm. The other follows easily. Pop!

If I seem delirious, it's because I barely slept last night.

Why, you ask?

My son, when not swaddled, is a maniac. I am not kidding. His arms have minds of their own. It's like "The Birds"...his hands peck at his face, flutter against his forehead, claw against his nose. They spring into flight at the slightest noise and flap around wildly...waking the baby they are attached to.

I was terrified to move and wished I could swaddle myself. You know how it is. The moment you need to be still, your nose itches...or your muscles involuntarily twitch...or you have a horrible tickle in your throat. It's torture. I lay in bed wide awake and paranoid for a few hours...watching my son's arms flip and flop and flap about before I finally had enough. I moved with great gusto. I may have even flailed, so happy was I to stretch my poor, twitchy body.

And, the baby woke up all the way. ;)

I fed him, burped him, talked to him a bit, gloated over how beautiful he is, and then plopped him on my chest to sleep out the rest of the night. The turkey.

Darn co-sleeping, anyway.

Anyone else dealing with this same issue? What have you done to improve the situation all around?

When I FINALLY fell asleep, I dreamed that I was being stalked by a murderous, telekinetic girl-child named Natasha. (As my mother pointed out, Natasha is "Ah Satan" when flipped around...LOL!) She would hurl me into the air with her mind and somehow stab me repeatedly in the neck before I hit the ground. At one point, she turned into a cat and silently followed me around, springing out at me periodically. (Don't ask how I survived being thrown into the air and stabbed because I don't remember...ha!)

Then Jude wiggled on my chest just as the Natasha-cat got her claws into me, and I was awake again. And, I was glad.

That was one scary-ass cat!