Wriggle-monster

Babess has always been something of an escape artist.  Even her birth was as much her work as mine.  And when she was only about 6 hours old, I argued with the nurse that my babies don’t like to be swaddled with their arms trapped.  She insisted she’d never come across a newborn who didn’t like being swaddled, implying that I probably didn’t do it properly (wasn’t she lucky I was drugged and docile?!).  I woke later to a crying baby who had wriggled her arm completely out of two singlets and a gown, just to have her hands free.  The swaddle was still in place, her hand was sticking out of the neck-holes in the clothing.

And, 16 months later, it continues.  Tonight I have given up.  I will find her some new pyjamas.  We’ve been putting her in all-in-one outfits for bed, with long sleeves and feet.  We want her to be warm and snuggly, especially since she tends to sleep crammed up against the top of her cot, with her blankets kicked off.

Quite often, her Dad will find her – when he checks the children last thing at night – with both feet crammed down one leg of her pjs.  Sometimes I’ve found her with one arm free, the sleeve under her armpit.

Tonight I have found her naked to the waist, twice in twenty minutes, chilled and crying.  She was (meant to be) wearing a bodysuit singlet (onesie, in the US) and long-sleeved footed pyjamas that zip up with a dome fastening at the top.  Somehow, she had got both feet down one leg of the pjs, and wriggled both arms free of both layers.

A long-sleeved t-shirt and some (footless) leggings seem to have solved the problem for now.  They might even become her regular nightwear.

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