My child is 374 months…
This week has been a mixture of all the great and the not-so-great things about parenting a newborn.
My brother, his wife, and his two year old came down for the weekend and K finally got to meet his cousin. Munch got plenty of snuggle time with his auntie and uncle, I got to spend some quality time with the little bean (a.k.a. Nora Bora) and the adults got to swap stories and ask advice. I wish they didn’t live so far. I loved having family here. Cue the most unexpectedly cute family photo ever.
All that’s missing is our younger brother, the fun uncle. I still insist that he get in the picture with his husky mix. She’s got more personality than my newborn at the moment and is just as much a part of the family. Now we just need our parents and grandparents in the picture to get one of those generations photos.
Notice K’s little fluorescent polo? What you can’t see are his boating shorts complete with little sailboats and waves images. I laughed diabolically as I dressed him that morning. Jordon is going to give me hell for this outfit. Our son, dressed as the prepster. But the outfit was just so tiny and he’s almost too big for it that I couldn’t help myself.
I am almost in tears every time I think about how big he is getting – partly because it’s going by too fast, and partly because we have maybe a handful of outfits in the next size up. Time to go shopping! That brings on even more tears and worry – but I can’t remember when I showered last and I know for a fact that I’ve been peed on, pooped on, spit up on, and dropped jelly, honey, bread crumbs, and a number of other unknown substances on myself. And even if I did shower, I would be covered again before I can get out the door.
Don’t even get me started about the baby. I try to plan it out so he is fed and changed and ready to go so I can at least put on something other than sweatpants. Once I’m done feeding him, he needs a diaper change. While I’m changing him, he spits up. If I was smart enough to put a bib on, that catches most of it. Otherwise he needs a new shirt. And then he’s hungry again because he just spit up his second breakfast. Slow down Pippin. Even hobbits draw the line at two breakfasts. And while I’m feeding him, he destroys that diaper. It’s a viscous cycle that never ends. You just get to a point where you pretend you didn’t hear that fart. It sounded dry this time…he’s fine. Put him in the carseat and head out the door.
When I get to the store, I look in the mirror and the reflection is frightening. My eyes don’t just have bags, they’re red and blotchy. My skin hasn’t been moisturized in days and it shows. And the hair. Oh the hair! Now I know why mom’s shave their head after having kids. I could rock a Mohawk right? Back me up here!
I’ve been working on getting out of the house in a timely fashion. We had a doctor’s appointment, play date, and lacrosse game to go to. I may be getting the hang of it or I may be getting lucky. I was early, yes you read that right, EARLY for two events this week without having to plan in extra time.
The weather finally decided to ignore the weatherman and provided us with beautiful, warm, sunny days to spend outside. We met up with Caroline, Liam, and their mom Sarah at the park. In true newborn fashion, Kaison nursed the entire time. At least we got over an hour of fresh air.
Can I just take a minute to sing praises about this nursing cover? (See link –> Click Here!) It covers all 360° of me…that’s all the way around, NOT my weight, for you non-math people… is lightweight enough to wear in the heat, but blocks out the cold wind, acts as an infant car seat cover and public high chair cover, and can also be warn as a scarf if you have nowhere else to put it! It has been a lifesaver in so many situations already! If you are breastfeeding, throw away your nursing apron and get one of these! If you want to shop around, based on reviews I also considered this brand (See link –> Click Here!), but liked the designs of Copper Pearl better and found that they had slightly better reviews on the quality of the material. I’m avoiding most other brands. Their prices speak volumes about the quality.
Caroline ran into so many friends at the park you would think it was all planned. It was a perfect day. We also watched the high school’s lacrosse game. Munch met some of my students while I got the most *insert sarcasm here* badass tan lines. Oh, and I realized on the way home that I was wearing my sunglasses over my eyeglasses during the entire game. It didn’t even phase me, but I know some of the kids were laughing at my fashion choices. Just another example of how much I don’t care about how I look.
And while I’m giving shameless baby product shoutouts, let’s give it up for the baby carriers! Without my Baby Bjorn Mini Carrier (See link –> Click Here!) my arms would be dead …but at least I would have arm muscles the size of which to give Chris Hemsworth a run for his money. Hey Chris, wanna arm wrestle? *winks awkwardly* But back to the carrier. Every parent needs one if you plan on going on simple trips anywhere. I haven’t tried them all, but again *research* and we decided on the Baby Bjorn. The straps support the upper back and with proper posture you shouldn’t run into the issue most reviewers complain about (lack of lower back support) – at least I haven’t. And my kid is 12 pounds. It’s snug and well made. We’ll be using this for our hikes!
If only it wasn’t a thirty minute drive anywhere, we would be out all day. I’m going to have to get brave and start taking Kaison and Little out alone so we can enjoy the fresh air while everyone else is working.
Babes has been staying awake much longer during the day and watching our every move. Last night, we put him in the bouncer and sat in front of him for an hour, just talking to him and watching his faces. He hasn’t quite smiled back at us yet, but it’s obvious he wants to.
K is growing so fast. There’s little rolls on his arms and legs. He’s always pushing with his legs, trying to stand or crawl, I don’t know which. When he’s face down, he uses his arms to hold himself up. Munch can hold a plank longer than I can. And when the doctor asked about tummy time, I said he prefers it while lying on my chest, but he’ll still commit to 2-3 minutes on a mat on the floor. I was shocked when she told me 15 seconds was a good goal for each session. Looks like I’ve been pushing him more than I need to. We’re going to have a master head lifter in the family. *read in a deep, intimidating voice*
With all the progress he is making comes some developmental woes. We’ve reached the point where babies tend to become colicky and Kaison is no exception. I handled it pretty well and continued to console him until he calmed down. Nursing and then skin-to-skin while patting his back often did the trick. However after two nights of almost no fussiness, K had a meltdown last night. For two hours he screamed himself hoarse, often crying so much he didn’t breath and there was nothing Jordon nor I could do to help him. It was the first time I had felt completely helpless and was distraught because of it. I wanted to cry but was too exhausted to do so. I was also in the middle of running an online Norwex party and so had to let Jordon take him. By the time I was done, he was too upset to nurse. Jordon ended up taking him back into the bedroom while I sat in the living room staring at the wall.
It was the first time in a while I had felt like a failure as a mother, though I know it won’t be the last. I know we did all we could. I know sometimes babies just cry. I know. But it was heartbreaking all the same. And you know what really destroys you? His tear ducts have started working. So on top of the screaming, we got actual tears. I couldn’t handle it.
There have been other moments this week. There were moments where I should have felt bad, but I just had to laugh.
Like when I realized it had been a week since his last legit head-to-toe bath. He smelled like milk and every inch of him was sticky. I swear I’ve cleaned him when he needed it, but the last time I placed him in the bath was a week ago. Whoops.
There were moments where I felt bad, but should have laughed.
Like when he had terrible gas. His gas was so horrid, the dog left the room. And each toot was low and loud, taking its time on the way out so as to let that smell linger for several minutes. No more dairy for me.
There were moments when I needed to take a deep breath or cry, or both.
Babes has decided that 4 AM is a perfectly legitimate time to be up for the morning. Suns up, buns up! But seriously, every morning I’m convinced it’s just another middle of the night wake up and every morning I spend three hours alternating between holding him and placing him in the bassinet only to have him cry for me twenty minutes later. Around 7 AM I finally give up and take him to the couch. I guess when you go to bed at 8 PM there comes a point when you’ve had enough sleep.
And there were moments where I just plain laughed.
You know that meme that pokes fun at how mom’s give their child’s age in months? Apparently I’ll never be that kind of mom because I can’t remember how old my newborn is. Twice this week, I was asked his age and I had to pause for an awkward amount of time while I tried to remember what day it was, how old he was last week, realize that was his age two weeks ago, think ahead to what next week will be and count backwards…you get the idea. As the stranger looks at me awkwardly after fumbling over the number eight, I walk away and start laughing. Just last week I was telling everyone he was two weeks older than he really was. Mom brain is strong with this one. Eight weeks. My child is eight weeks old.
But with each moment, I can see him growing right before my eyes and I’m grateful for the days I get to spend with him. I think ahead to when I’ll have to go to work or when he’ll be in school and I’ll miss out on memories. I know now why my mom cried when she dropped my baby brother off at preschool, only to pick him up and unenroll him when he wouldn’t stop crying. I’m not ready for those days and they’re coming up too fast.
Little man, when you get old enough to choose whether to spend your afternoons with us or play your video games or go out with friends, I hope sometimes you’ll choose us. I won’t say so, or maybe I will, but I hope you still let us be a part of your life. We’ll join you in your adventures in whatever way you’ll let us.
I’ll do anything for this little guy. I’ve sold my soul and I didn’t have to meet the devil to do it.
*Fun fact: I made the title with a random number. Then as a joke I was going to hide in there, I decided to change it to Jordon’s age. Well what do you know, the random number I chose WAS in fact Jordon’s age!*