Speaking in tongues

We've been blessed so far with a child that sleeps for significant chunks at a time. After a few stumbles, we've ended up with a fairly livable routine. We try to turn in anytime between 8:30 - 10:00 depending on when she last eats and naturally falls asleep. It's a mad dash to get to sleep ourselves and really milk every wink we can before she wakes up for the 1:00 feeding. More often than not she'll sleep soundly until the 4:00 feeding. If she doesn't go back to sleep, than that's it for my night, as I bounce her until she falls asleep close to 6:00. On a good night she'll fall right back to sleep after each meal, but more often than not, she needs some walking around to get her tired again.

I tried reading to her, but when she's crying it's really a two handed job to bounce her and shush at the same time, so I end up with the TV on low volume instead. With anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour and a half to kill until she gets that nice deep breathing going I'm forced to watch some truly interesting programming, and see what networks think of people that stay up late on a Tuesday night (not much).

Two things I would not have otherwise known that you might be interested in hearing about late night TV:

1) The weekly test of the emergency broadcasting system is at 2:51 am Wednesday mornings, on all channels. Mia was almost sound asleep until that piercing siren came on. Changing the channel didn't help, ensuring another half hour of bouncing.

2) Spike TV reverts from whatever they're showing (typically Caddy shack or some old Chuck Norris movie) into religious broadcasting at 2:55 am every morning. We could be committed to a classic final battle, only to find ourselves in a discussion of why abstinence is cool. If you're not fully awake when this happens it's easy to think somebody is kidding.

(So somebody likes to watch Baywatch? Isn't that special)

The last few nights though have witnessed a new development. She's keeping to our routine still, but in-between the feedings, whilst still sound asleep, Mia will grunt like a monkey. At times it sounds closer to two wet balloons rubbing together, with all the accompanying squeaks and whines, but the base line of all this is a real solid grunt. She isn't pooping. We thought she was trying to break free of the straight jacket we put her in, but the arm-free sleep sack didn't help either. Oddly enough she'll stop as soon as she's in my arms (only to start up again as soon as I put her down).

We asked our pediatrician who laughed and said it's just an immature digestive system. It should pass in the next three weeks, but if she's not waking herself up, we should feel free to sleep through it. Easier said than done, but it's comforting that it isn't a medical condition.

Our kid is just weird.

(After months of living in her natural habitat, we hope to better understand her)