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rivkaA better night, Gods be praised. She still woke me up too often (four times between 10pm and 6am, when she decided we were up for the day), but each time she went back to sleep quickly and easily. There was no repeat of the "my crib mattress has been soaked in amphetamines" thing where her eyes pop open as soon as I put her down.
Good.
Sunday night I kept thinking, despairingly, "this is like parenting a newborn!" Then Monday morning arrived, and I realized how it was different. When Alex was a newborn, my daytime responsibilities were to (a) feed the baby, and (b) nap. Yesterday my daytime responsibilities included:
(a) editing, assembling, and mounting two posters for presentation at the Annual Meeting of the Institute where I work.
(b) counseling a pleasant schizophrenic man who feels unable to tell his fiancee that he has HIV.
(c) taking care of some grant purchasing and bookkeeping.
(d) working out coverage schedules for the Annual Meeting.
(e) documenting clinical services I provided under one of our grants.
(f) helping our RAs figure out which program items they should attend.
(g) staying awake[1] in a darkened auditorium and listening to presentations about China's efforts to cobble together a public health system, forthcoming new classes of HIV drugs, and an altogether too laudatory speech about George Bush's plan for combatting AIDS in Africa. (Which contained the phrase, I swear to God, "It's you researchers who are the real 'activists.' ")
(h) helping one of our RAs prepare for answering questions about her poster.
(i) standing by my own poster for an hour and fifteen minutes, answering questions from time to time.
So all I can say is, thank heavens I had a better night last night. I was supposed to spend today at the Annual Meeting as well, but my babysitter's backup sick-child-care plan fell through and she had to stay home with her son. She thinks she can come tomorrow instead. Fortunately, Annual Meeting time is fungible - it's not as though I had appointments scheduled for today, as I normally would. Instead of napping sitting up in a straight chair while ostensibly listening to lectures about the vaccine effort, I can nap sitting up in the rocking chair at home while Alex naps. Much better.
[1] mostly.
Good.
Sunday night I kept thinking, despairingly, "this is like parenting a newborn!" Then Monday morning arrived, and I realized how it was different. When Alex was a newborn, my daytime responsibilities were to (a) feed the baby, and (b) nap. Yesterday my daytime responsibilities included:
(a) editing, assembling, and mounting two posters for presentation at the Annual Meeting of the Institute where I work.
(b) counseling a pleasant schizophrenic man who feels unable to tell his fiancee that he has HIV.
(c) taking care of some grant purchasing and bookkeeping.
(d) working out coverage schedules for the Annual Meeting.
(e) documenting clinical services I provided under one of our grants.
(f) helping our RAs figure out which program items they should attend.
(g) staying awake[1] in a darkened auditorium and listening to presentations about China's efforts to cobble together a public health system, forthcoming new classes of HIV drugs, and an altogether too laudatory speech about George Bush's plan for combatting AIDS in Africa. (Which contained the phrase, I swear to God, "It's you researchers who are the real 'activists.' ")
(h) helping one of our RAs prepare for answering questions about her poster.
(i) standing by my own poster for an hour and fifteen minutes, answering questions from time to time.
So all I can say is, thank heavens I had a better night last night. I was supposed to spend today at the Annual Meeting as well, but my babysitter's backup sick-child-care plan fell through and she had to stay home with her son. She thinks she can come tomorrow instead. Fortunately, Annual Meeting time is fungible - it's not as though I had appointments scheduled for today, as I normally would. Instead of napping sitting up in a straight chair while ostensibly listening to lectures about the vaccine effort, I can nap sitting up in the rocking chair at home while Alex naps. Much better.
[1] mostly.
