The Wolf is Back

Last night was really rough, like testing my motherhood rough. We think Gus is teething. We thought he was two months ago, but alas, no teeth, so while I feel like I’m crying wolf every time I say it, if it’s not teeth, WHAT IS GOING ON little boy?! He was up fussing and crying like half the night, and that is not an exaggeration. He went to bed SO GOOD at around 8:00, and per usual, woke up to be fed around 10:30 when we were heading to bed. He fell asleep nursing, I plopped him in his crib, and then not 3 minutes later he was awake and screaming. So I went in, rubbed his tummy, tried to console him, and not until after I picked him up and rocked him for a few minutes did he fall asleep. So I put him in his crib again, and he’s awake immediately. Wash, rinse, repeat. I’ve been trying to help him learn to put himself to sleep, so I tried that. I sat on the floor of his room while he fussed, squirmed, and pulled out his pacifier, and when it turned to screaming after 30 minutes, I finally just picked him up again and tried to console him. He wanted none of that. He also wanted none of the boob. He was ok snuggling in bed with Dan and me for a bit, but then was pissed again. I don’t know when he finally agreed to just take the boob already, but he did, and he calmed down. Then I gave him some Tylenol, swaddled him up, bounced him around until he was asleep, and put him in his crib. He slept for a whole hour and a half, and I think that was the longest stretch of sleep I got the entire night.

The rest of the night was more of the same. By around 5:00 AM he was seemingly ready to be up for the day, refused nursing, and screamed until I put him in his crib and turned on the dream screen, which kept him happy for 10 minutes. Dan got up for work at 5:20, just in time to bring me my sad little baby. We just sat awake in bed for about 40 minutes, he played a little, fussed a lot. I got him a cold rag to suck on, he pretty much threw it back at me. Dan came up to kiss us goodbye at about 6:00, and found me with bleary eyes, spirit broken, holding my son, desperately wandering around his room trying to get him to go to sleep. And I just broke down sobbing. I can’t describe it, but being that tired, that frustrated, that early in the morning, something just came over me. I felt hopeless, alone, and also just so sad that my baby was clearly so unhappy, and there was seemingly nothing I could do about it.

Needless to say, Dan took Gus and got him to sleep, and went off to work about 20 minutes later than usual. And I got 2 glorious hours of sleep, in bed, alone. Those two hours and the coffee I had when I woke up are the only reasons I am able to function this morning.

Tomorrow I have to work, so if we are in for another night like the last, (which I am totally anticipating because if he is in fact teething I’ve heard it’s usually 3 or 4 similar nights before that tooth finally pushes through), then Dan and I are switching off. The other alternative ends with me spontaneously combusting.

So anyone have any good, natural (is that asking too much?) teething remedies, or is the best advice to just stick it out?

All I have time or energy for...

...are little tidbits, but I feel like writing. So here goes.

This morning I woke up at 8:00 AM (about an hour later than Gus usually lets me sleep) to my baby grabbing at my nose, grinning at me with dried milk all over his face from our sleepy night-nursings. Is there any better way to wake up? I live for mornings like those.

Dan and I procrastinated on doing our taxes, and now we can't find Gus's social security card ANYWHERE. I have absolutely no clue where we put it. Honestly though, can we be blamed for anything we did in those first few weeks with a newborn? It's all so hazy... I remember getting it in the mail, rejoicing over Gus's ability to now get a job and pay taxes, and then... like I said, hazy. Ugh. I'm not quite sure what to do.

Speaking of the little guy, he is driving me a bit crazy today. Fighting naps like it's his job. I got a very fussy baby down about 20 minutes ago, and now I can hear him on the monitor, cooing at the cieling, shrieking with delight at God know's what, and kicking the little hanging thing on the dream screen to make it light up and play music. Seriously, that's all you need child? 20 minutes? Yea, I don't think so.

Ok, the cooing has turned to crying. Gotta go. This is a sad excuse for a post, should I even hit publish?

Baby boy in a bonnet

I mean seriously, is there anything cuter than my child in his baptismal bonnet?! I personally don't think so, but I realize I'm not entirely impartial.

A close second has got to be my kid in his underwear, playing with his uncle...

Awwwwwwe! Alright, enough. I'm done. Thank you for your time. ;)

You live, you learn

We finally got Gus baptized this weekend, at just over 6 months. Mother of the year right here! Anyway, it went well enough, he cried and fussed through the actual ceremony because the poor little guy was completely ready for his afternoon nap, but other than that, success! And he looked adorable in his little baptismal bonnet. He is a boy, so it’s not often I get to put bonnets on him, and let’s just say I thoroughly soaked it up.

To be honest, I’m mostly relieved it’s over. We spent so much of last week cleaning, cooking, and preparing for the party, and I was just so spent. Entertaining is so much work and I have decided that I have NO kitchen instincts whatsoever, which makes it that much more stressful. I wish I was one of those people who could whip up a delicious meal without a recipe, but I am most definitely not. I’m not even one of those people who can whip up a delicious meal WITH a recipe. And when you’re cooking for thirty people, you can’t exactly follow a recipe, you just have to figure it out. I pretty much stressed and questioned everything… oven temperatures, timing, quantities… you name it and I likely had a mini-panic attack about it.

We went to the little Mexican restaurant down the street for dinner on Saturday night with my brother and his wife, and it was definitely a bit of a wake-up call as to the fact that we no longer have a baby that can just be carted along anywhere and everywhere. Gus was a bit of a beast to deal with, and I learned a few things:

1. Booths just don’t work. There is not enough room, period.

2. Breastfeeding in public with a 6-month old is becoming increasingly perilous. Gus swats around and squirms and pulls the nursing cover off of him, and generally just behaves like he is being tortured. It’s ridiculous. Also he is just so distracted by everything around him that he won’t really eat, even if he’s hungry. I can barely nurse him in front of the TV at home anymore, so why am I surprised when it is difficult in a loud restaurant?

3. I need to remember to bring cool toys with me. Distracting toys. Toys that Gus doesn’t normally get to play with. Otherwise, all he wants are the butter knives, beer bottles, and salt shakers. And no matter how well we think we’re doing keeping that stuff out of his reach, he’ll find a way to get them. If Gus was a Super Hero, that would be his super power.

4. I need to bring baby food. Gus wants to join in on the eating, and gets really pissed when he realizes that he doesn’t get anything because I’m a bad mom and didn’t even consider throwing a little cube of frozen squash in the diaper bag on the way out the door.

Time...

What a lovely weekend, there’s something about this time of year in Minnesota… when the weather finally starts to remind us that winter really won’t last forever, the days are longer, the sun shines brighter, and people are just genuinely happier. I swear they are. I certainly am.

I am really sick of having a baby in the winter. I’m sick of having to carry him around in his heavy car seat carrier with a “bundle-me” insert because it’s too cold and too much of a pain to get him in and out of the car without it. When I do forgo the carrier, it’s all… hat, mittens, furry hooded coat? Check, check, and check. Are his little (perfect, delectable, chubby) ankles exposed? Uh, oh, better fix that. I’d love to just be able to put him in the Moby right from the car, and leave the big bulky car seat in the car where it belongs, especially since he’s going to want to be out of the car seat as soon as we get inside wherever it is we are, but it’s just too much of a hassle with the cold and the muddy, slushy, grossness of winter. Ugh. I just can’t wait until it’s over.

I hate wishing away time, because every day that passes means Gus is one day older. One day closer to no longer being my little baby. Seriously, these last six months have just gone by so fast, he’ll be walking and talking and eating glue and chasing girls with worms in just the blink of an eye. Don’t get me wrong, I will of course love seeing him grow and learn and become this amazing little person, but I know I will look back on this time when he was a sweet little baby and kick myself if I don’t treasure every single moment of it. That’s why I’m going to try not to get too worked up over things like getting him to sleep through the night or pumping issues and stressing about my milk supply. I’m going to try not to push and wish for the next big milestone, who cares when he scoots or crawls or pulls himself into a sitting position all by himself, right? He’ll do all those things eventually, and it will definitely be exciting when those things happen, but what he’s doing right now is pretty exciting too! It’s difficult to live in the moment, but that’s what I’d like to try to do… just enjoy this short time when he is a baby, because that’s exactly what it is – such a short and sweet period of time.

Alright, better get to bed because he’s been sleeping since 7:30, nearly three hours, and he’ll probably be awake and crying for his mama and her boob within the hour. Oh well, just one more chance to squeeze him close and kiss his little fingers and sniff his gloriously bald head. ;)