Chapter 247: Tubby Time
Tim’s pooped.
Three straight nights of all baby all the time has convinced
him of two things: A. He does not ever, for any reason, want to be a single
parent. B: It is significantly easier to go for a few days with no sleep and
then crash and sleep round the clock for a few days than it is to just get
little one hour, two hour long naps for days at a time. Three: He will never
scoff at sleep deprivation as a form of torture again, and D: His ability to
maintain a consistent train of thought is shot to shit.
So, yes, last night was Abby’s night, and he did sleep from
basically dinner until right after Kelly’s 7:00 AM feed, and then got up so Abby could rest, knowing he was on duty. Mostly he got
himself some breakfast, put some more food on the bedside table for Abby, and
then spent the next hour dozing on the bed next to her.
And yes, alternating nights is a lifesaver. He’s fried.
Really fried. But he suspects he was a lot closer to insane yesterday than he
is now. (When he saw what he texted to Breena, apparently during Kelly’s 4:00
feed on Thursday morning, he decided he was really out of it. Not just because
it makes no sense, but also because he has no memory of doing it, at all.)
Round about ten, Kelly started chirping again, so he got out
of bed, grabbed her, cleaned her up, and brought her to Abby, who was looking
awfully tired, but that haunted, dead, listless look is gone, so he’s thinking
that is a good thing.
Tim brought Kelly in for her second breakfast. (Who knew
having a baby was like suddenly getting a helpless Hobbit? Breakfast, second
breakfast, elevenses, luncheon, tea, dinner, supper. Were it not for the lack
of furry feet, she’d be ready to start calling Kelly, Merri.)
Abby rolled onto her side (which she can finally do without
pain, thank you antibiotics!) facing both of them. Kelly’s on the bed, laying
on her back, kicking and squirming a little, doing what Abby considers her,
I-just-woke-up-let’s-move routine.
Rumor has it, there’s a way to do this that doesn’t involved
having to sit up, find pillows, and rearrange everyone. Something about side-lying
nursing.
Worth a shot.
She scooted a bit closer to Kelly, got her breast out of her
bra, and gave it a try.
And once again, Kelly’s giving her that this is different, I’m not sure I like it look. But she’s very much
in favor of getting fed, so she latches on and gets to it.
Tim’s laying on his side, watching them, very gently
stroking Kelly’s tummy.
“You do that.”
Tim looks up at her.
“Huh?”
“She was giving me the I’m
not sure I like this, but I’ll try it anyway look. Seen that on you a whole
bunch of times. Like, you gave me that exact same look when I was trying to get
you to eat fried pickles.”
That got a smile out of Tim. Part of him is thinking that
he’s not the only one who needs occasional extra coaxing to try new things, but
he’s also actually rested enough to realize that saying that out loud might not
be the best move in the history of husband-hood. So, instead he says, “Looks
like she’s decided this works. How about you? This comfy?”
“Not sure. It’s different.” Kelly kept sucking away, and
Abby lay there, relaxing a little, dozing a little, and eventually decided that
yep, she likes this.
“I was thinking…” Tim jerked a little when she said that,
apparently he’d been a few steps past just dozing.
“Yeah.”
“I can do the 1:00 feed. Still want to swap on the 4:00 one,
but I can get 1:00.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’m feeding every three hours the rest of the day,
and as much as I love the sleep, going from ten to seven without nursing is
really uncomfortable. I wake up, and they’re rock hard and ache.”
“Then I’ll fetch Kelly for you for the 1:00 feed. But if you
start getting too tired, let me know. It’s really scary when you stop talking,
so… just… Whatever you need, I’ll do, but you do have to tell me what it is.”
“Okay. Right now, I need to get into a set routine for this
nursing thing, and I think getting that routine will help.”
“All right.”
“And when I am completely fried, and she’s yelling, I will
poke you and send you in on feeding duty.”
“No problem. But to be clear, it’s my night for the 4:00 AM
feed?”
“Yep. Every other night, one of us gets six straight hours
of sleep in a row.”
“I am on board with that. One of the books was saying that
usually the 4:00 feed is the one that usually goes first. So, when she starts
sleeping that long, you want to swap on the 1:00 feed?” Tim asked.
“Yeah. If it works that way. Breena told me the first feed
Molly dropped was the 10:00 PM one. But if she cooperates, let’s get at least
one of us a full night of sleep.”
He stretched a bit, and sat up. “I’m actually feeling rested
enough that I might want to do something.”
Abby rose an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Well, nothing complicated. I’m still not sure I could type
my password in right. But, maybe Kelly and I’ll go get some more groceries when
she wraps up. You wanna come? Get out of the house for a little while?”
“Tempting, but… If you’re going to take her out, I’m going
to do something wild and crazy.”
“Really?” he asks with a little smile.
“Yeah. Gonna get a shower.”
“Ohh… you wild woman.” Tim ran his fingers through his hair
and cringed at how greasy it was. “I’m thinking I should do likewise. I
probably don’t need to be quite this scruffy. Don’t want strangers calling
child protective services on me.”
“You don’t look that bad.”
“Don’t look that good, either.”
Abby shrugged. Tim stood up, heading toward the bathroom.
“Maybe, if the water really wakes me up, I’ll shave.”
“Skip it.” She said as he stepped in.
And having said that he turned around and stepped back out.
“Really?”
“Yeah, you’ve told me part of why you’ve never done a beard
is because it comes in kind of scraggly, and you don’t want to look like that
at work. You’re not at work. Unless you hate it, might as well let it grow in
and see what happens.”
He rubs his face, and ten days without shaving means he looks
like, well, Tony, on day three, sort of. It’s long enough that it’s not
scratchy. The big thing is that while the goatee area is pretty well covered in
hair, his cheeks and jaw line has about, from the feel of it, fifty or so
hairs, and that’s just not a beard, at all.
But he probably could manage a fairly decent-looking goatee
between now and heading back to work.
“Doesn’t bug you?” he asks. He has thought about growing a
beard on occasion, but usually by about day five he gives up because it looks
stupid (and he runs out of vacation time).
“Nope. It’s not sharp anymore, and especially if you aren’t
going to be doing your regular every other day shave, you might as well keep it
long and soft.”
“Then I won’t shave.”
That got a smile out of Abby.
When he got out, Abby had rolled to her other side, Kelly
was still nursing away, and they were both listening to some of Abby’s music.
Abby rocking gently to it. From what he could tell Kelly wasn’t aware of it.
Of course, he’s got no idea how a baby would react in a way
to indicate it’s happy with the music being played.
Laugh maybe? He
doesn’t think Kelly’s laughed yet. Coos, babbles, chirps, cries, and
occasionally sounds so much like a cat he wonders if the neighbor’s cat somehow
got into their house, but no laughing.
It’ll come.
She’s only ten days
old.
He sat on the bed toweling off his hair, feeling a lot
better. Clean, somewhat rested, all of his various and sundry basic needs taken
care of, and yeah, he’s feeling like a real human again.
“While I was in there, I was thinking of something else we
could do.”
Abby looks up at him. “What kind of something else?”
He smiles at her. “Several, but only one is relevant right
now. Her umbilical cord stub fell off yesterday. We could try giving her a real
bath. See if we’ve got a little swimmer here.”
“Hmmm… We could do that.”
“Yeah, she’s getting a little smelly. And she doesn’t like
getting wiped off.” Which is an understatement. She screams bloody murder if
you try to apply a damp washcloth to her. Which, on a gut level, Tim
sympathizes with. But, they’re not letting her get crusty, so she does get
wiped off, and just has to deal with it. “So… tubby time?”
Abby flashed a smile at him. “Sure.”
Technically, Kelly has her own bathroom. (At least for the
time being.) They have their own bathroom attached to their room, and then
there’s another full bath down the hall between what is now Kelly’s room and
the guest room.
That’s the one with all the baby gear in it.
And in a few months, when she can sit up on her own and
play, having a bathroom with all this stuff in it for her will probably make
sense, but at ten days old Kelly really couldn’t care less if there are tubby
toys.
So, post feed, post burp, they’re ambling down the hall to
that bathroom, slightly nervous (like all first time parents getting ready to
give the baby a bath) ready to try out this whole bathing thing.
And like two somewhat nervous people who, just possibly,
went a bit bonkers on the child safety gear, they have a wide collection of
things located in Kelly’s bathroom devoted to getting her wet and soapy in the
utmost safety.
 |
| How it's supposed to work. |
They didn’t even have to get Kelly into the water to figure
that out. Abby had started the water, making sure it was nicely warm while Tim
was getting her undressed. She set the tub safety thing up, and just doing that
was awkward. The leaning, reaching, twisting thing wasn’t comfortable at all,
and wasn’t making her feel like she’d be in a good position to wash Kelly off,
let alone grab her fast if need be.
She looked at it, shook her head, and said, “Yeah, this is
just not going to work.”
He’s holding Kelly against his chest. She’s doing her
traditional, I’m not swaddled, let’s flail around, and seems to be enjoying it
right now.
“So…” Tim’s wondering what he solution to this is going to
be.
Abby just looks him over. Tim realizes that, having finished
his shower less than twenty minutes ago, he’s not dressed. “Okay.”
She takes the baby bath seat out, and he gets in. Water
feels good to him, so it’s probably okay for her. He’s cradling her head in one
hand, tush in the other as he gently lowers her in.
“This’ll probably feel pretty familiar. You used to spend
all your time wet,” he says as the back of his hand and her feet hit the water.
She’s squinting up at him. Not looking particularly alarmed
or displeased, but not sure if she likes this, either. Her feet and legs are
in, and she kicks around, sending drops flying, one of which got her in the
nose, and that got an indignant chirp out of her.
“Yeah, well, if you splash you’re going to get wet,” Tim
says while Abby laughs. “Your cousin Molly will very happily teach you that
lesson over and over when you two get to the pool.” Then he finished lowering
her so that all of her but her head was in the water. She scooted around a
little, which Tim found nerve wracking because she’s really slippery and the
absolute last thing he wants to do is drop her.
He looks up at Abby when a thought occurs to him. If he’s
holding her in place, he’s using both of his hands, so he can’t really apply
soap. “Help?”
Abby leans over the side of the tub, cups her hand, and
begins to trickle water over Kelly’s head. And while Kelly does not appear to
mind the water on her body, she’s finding the water on her head bothersome and
lets them know she’s not fond of that sensation by crying and trying to move
her head around so she can see what’s happening.
Abby speeds it up a bit, rubbing a tiny dab of baby soap
into her hair and rinsing it off fast. Then they try to get the area under her
chin, which she also doesn’t approve of. Her head tilts down fast when Abby
tries to get that washed off.
Tummy washing got some cooing. Feet were also deemed to be
an appropriate washing venue. Legs were met with approval. Hands went over
well. Armpits, not so much.
Which left them with Kelly’s back. And it’s not like Tim’s
going to just flip her over, face down, in the water. Nope.
He’s been kneeling in the tub, holding her in the water,
when something finally occurs to him. He’s got legs. And legs might be a more
handy version of that baby bath chair they had. So he rearranges himself so his
legs are in front of him, bent up a bit so his knees are out of the water, and
he set Kelly on her tummy on his legs, looking over his knees, and said, “So,
I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t poop on me, okay?”
Abby laughed at that.
Then she got more soap, rubbed it all over Kelly’s back
(also an approved washing area) bum (Tim wonders if that tickles, because she’s
flailing at it, but doesn’t sound unhappy) and legs (happy, baby cooing at
that).
A minute after that, she was rinsed off, wrapped in a dry
towel, and Tim and Abby were feeling like they had successfully cracked the
case wide open, caught the killer, and won a Nobel Prize for it.
All in all, it was a good morning.
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