What Santa Brought

Noah received some great gifts this year, as 80% of the tree was dedicated to spoiling this child.  So much so that we have to mail a package of these gifts home!  He also received a gift that will last a lifetime, literally.  My son is officially walking. One moment he was hanging by the coffee table in the living room, the next, he was precariously toddling towards me while I was setting up my computer.  We are having a tough time keeping up in a tiny apartment, I dread to see how home will be with stairs and many more square feet!




            

Nowhere to go

We grown folks have it easy when it comes to bathrooming, you can find a stall, a bush, or pop a squat just about anywhere. Wait, a baby is in a diaper and can literally take care of business when the urge strikes. True, but you need a place to remove said diaper and dispose of it properly.  I typically use cloth diapers when I am home and really don't have to worry about landfills and random changing tables while at home.  We have taken several road trips with the baby in the past year and it is becoming more and more clear the lack of diaper changing stations offered in the random bathrooms that you pop into while traveling.  Initially, I was able to change his pants in the car in the parking lots; but due to his increase in size, inability to stay still, and our obsession with over packing we now rely on public facilities.  Or the lack thereof I have to say.  I have changed his diaper in a field next a gas station in rural Virginia, on my knees in the front seat, and have unloaded the entire backseat in a parking lot to do the deed. We have been in and out of at least two gas stations looking for proper changing facilities. The search for this is maddening as you already can tack on an hour driving time with an infant, so the constant denial of services tops the cake.   This does not only pertain to the road, I have had to change a diaper in a stroller and on a shady couch of the upstairs club portion of a restaurant as they lacked the proper tables in the loo.  Something I have never thought about B.C. (before child).  Now I am hitting up bathrooms and mentally noting if there are changing facilities much like I scout out porta-pots for my next running route. 

Join the Club

I have been in the midst of several mommies lately, varying in degrees of brand new to three kids deep and I have come to realize one unspoken thing about motherhood. Each and every one of us is up to our necks in self- doubt.  Don't get yourself all upset and think I am saying that all mothers are a bunch of low self esteem having, timid folks; as if you have seen one with a screaming two year old in the store, you will know this is not the case. No, I am simply stating that on some level we will question the root and effect of our actions with our children.  Is formula evil? Why won't this rash go away? How can I get my child to eat vegetables? Which school really is the best for my child? This doubt of one's parenting tactics doesn't just start with that first breath, (man!) but continues as long as you are alive I do believe. Now I have been around some mommas who just exude confidence and you are envious of their 3 well-mannered children, perfectly coiffed hair, and what?, a manicure too?! ( Who has time for that?) These are the types of mothers whom I look up to for guidance and essential know-how on getting through any trial the wee ones pull out on you.  Yet, I know, somewhere deep inside, this momma also questions her every move with her children. She may only keep it inside, tell only her spouse or closest friend, or just ignore the tinny voice in her head saying 'what if....?'  And that my friends, makes me feel better.  I know this seems like a misery loves company type of speech, but I think knowing that someone else feels the same way you do, gives you that confidence in parenting that we all need. There is great responsibility in raising a human in to a successful person and most of the formative years are busy and tough. On the other hand, I must also remind myself that the child will not remember the night when he was one that you let him cry for 2 hours, or the missed naps for shopping, or the fact that you have called your pediatrician at least once a week for their entire life.  I am a closet trash television watcher of shows like Real Housewives (yeah, I know, but nursing took up lots of time back in the day) but I have to give one former housewife (Bethenny) props for her recent quote in a parenting magazine. "You don’t have to do everything right--just be there."  Amen sister. Join the club... 

The Wolf Strikes Back

Just when I was cresting a point of parenthood where I was thinking, 'I got this' my offspring decided to throw me for yet another loop.  For the better part of a month or so, he has been waking up at least one time a night. Not screaming in pain or nightmares. No, he really just wants me to come in there and hang out with him while he sleeps.  As long as there is a hand placed firmly on his back, he is content. The second you say good night and head out of the room, he hastily yanks the blanket off and is posted up in his crib the closest he can get to the door.  Whine/crying.  The sound is truly pathetic that draws this sucker momma in each and every time.  I was constantly telling myself that I should go in because he could be wet/teething/feverish/thirsty/etc..... At one point I did see a fleeting flash of white on his gums when he doesn't clam up on me, and chalked his recent night diatribes up to that he was finally teething.  Last night, I had had enough.  I felt that he was working me, as the previous night I had gone in there four times, to pat his back and then just stand there by his crib as he constantly checked to make sure I was still there whilst drowsily sucking his thumb.  Enough of that, I said and when he started up last night, as I proceeded to turn the monitor volume down lower and attempt a fitful night of sleep.  Fast forward an hour and a half.  Still at it.  Damn this child is determined!  About and hour and 40 minutes in, I caved in and went in for the ritual pat down.  He settled down in mere moments and I frustratingly told he good night and took my duped self back to bed.  Start the crying again...another hour passes.  I am becoming sleep deprived angry at this point, and take in a heaping dose of Tylenol in and a cup of water.  Momentary silence, until I walked away and the cry/whine became more of a frantic wail. I could take it for only another 30 minutes and it dawned on me.  His diaper.  Poor child has been dealing with a pretty rowdy batch of rash, but my husband and I have been dosing him with copious amounts of cream to alleviate he problem.  Call it a mother's intuition, but we took that diaper off and the pungent smell of my son's overpowering ammonia diaper took over.  That could not feel good on a bump covered tush.  After the clean diaper was on, he settled right down and is still sleeping at this point.  Sleep continued to evade me as I lie in bed thinking about what had just happened.  Has his rash been bothering he so much? Was he just so worn down that he finally fell asleep?  I will never know, but I can definitely tell you that I am gun shy over not going into his room at night.  

All in a Year's Time

It is funny how one tool I got strictly based on a recommendation during my birthing class has yielded so many results in child-rearing.  A year ago we used it to calm my son down, and now we encourage mobility.  Next up he'll be standing on it for auditions to the circus. I will definitely call this walking!

All I Want for Christmas

We've been playing the elusive game of who cried wolf for about 8 months now. Any time that my son was ridiculous fussy, we attempted to chalk it up to teething and after some nights, I fully expected him to have all 26 choppers.  Never was the case, he was fussy for who knows what reason!  So within the past week he has been waking up at least once a night, clung to me like a leech, and has basically got me calling a chiropractor for some lower back pain.  I thought we were entering into the separation anxiety phase (which I also believe to be true) of life so I just sucked it up and let him act like he was a newborn child again.  Lo and behold, I am laying him down for a diaper change and I see a flash of white on his upper gum.  Was that the pasta from lunch 3 hours ago? Gross!  Nope, upon further inspection we officially have a tooth! Now it is not what I expected, first it is on the very top of his mouth, as I thought they got them on the bottom first, but when has this child followed any rules?  I also figured that teeth just come straight out of the bottom of a top gum (confused yet?) yet they come out of the side or head on if you are looking at it directly.  Well, I never thought to look there!  I am going to miss that gummy smile terribly but I am stoked that I finally know what teething is like and I have to say that making that child wear his 'corn' teething necklace may have paid off.