Icky Sickies

I am the mother of a snot-monster.

Seriously, the kid's nose hasn't stopped running since yesterday morning.  And this morning, when I got him out of bed, he had dried snot all over his face.  Disgusting, but true.  And, of course, his nose hurts, so wiping it has become this major struggle.  Every two minutes.

So, I pulled out the snot-sucker.  I have never, ever used the thing on him.  But then, he's never been this congested before.  I held him down, and fought with him, and in the end, he was breathing through his nose.  Briefly.  Then, exhausted from our epic struggle, he fell fast asleep.

I'll probably be cleaning dried snot again in an hour.

It wouldn't be so terrible, except the kid was already on the verge of extreme crankiness because he has four molars coming in, all at once.  We have been fighting these teeth for almost three weeks now.  So far, he's done wonderfully.  He gets a little fussy for awhile, sometimes, and then I put on the Orajel and life returns to sunshine and rainbows.

But now, with this cold, he just can't force himself to be happy.  He tries.  He played with eighteen toys in the space of ten minutes this morning in an effort to distract himself.  When that didn't work, he climbed into my lap, put his head on my chest, and whimpered.*  I tried comforting him, but he assumed I was trying to put him down for a nap, and he bucked backward and climbed back to the floor, looking again for comfort in his toys.  And so the cycle continued.  Over and over again for the next hour.  Until I pulled out the snot-sucker and he finally fell asleep.

As if that weren't enough, I woke up with congested sinuses this morning.  It's going to be a long week.

*And then blew his nose on my robe.

Random Updates

I don't really have a lot of time to post today, so I will merely give you the quick update.

All three of us got lots of sleep this weekend. Patrick took early morning duty both Saturday and Sunday, so that I could sleep in a little. Then, when I woke up, I let him take a nap to make up for it. I feel more rested than I have in a LONG time.

Three of Miles' four teeth have come through. That fourth one is being a little stubborn, but I'm sure it will push through any day now. Though, for all I know, it may have done so already. Anytime I try to look into his mouth, he clamps it shut tighter than Fort Knox. The good news is that this round of teething has been a little better than the last. He's cranky at bedtimes (but, really, when is he not?) and he's awfully clingy during the day (I'm enjoying the cuddletime while I can). But, for the most part, that's it.

Miles is soclose to standing on his own. He's done it for a few seconds, but each time, he realizes what he's doing and plops his fuzzy little butt back to the floor. Trust me, there will be a highly excited post, probably complete with pictures, when he finally does it. I'm SO excited for him, even though I know this is one step closer to him walking - and then there will be no stopping him. Bwahahahahahaha.

His hair is getting thick enough now that it's quite obviously got a red tinge to it. Especially when it's wet. Where did I get a redhead? If he didn't look like a perfect blend between Patrick and I, I would swear he was switched in the hospital.

And, I have to go. We have a million things to do today, including driving to Independence to fix our van, which has decided to stop working. Ugh.

Have an awesome week!

Put Your Hands In the Air!

Can you tell that the roller coaster of my life has just plunged down that first, terrifying, sky-high hill?

Festival rehearsals started this week. After spending last week preparing for Special Olympics, and the weekend in Wichita for it, I came back to a messy house, a teething baby,* and a week full of rehearsals.

Tuesday was our first court rehearsal, where I got to meet all of the wonderful new court members. I may just love this court - they're all kinda awesome. Last night was Apprentice meeting - a required rehearsal for all first through third year performers. It was also awesome. In fact, based on the people I saw last night, I know this is going to be an amazing year. And tonight is Kancheskera rehearsal. It's time to start putting together a gypsy kids' show! :)

Meanwhile, I've been spending my days with Miles at home, helping him to return to some semblance of routine while I wait for word from on high that I can finally start getting paid for my job. It's probably best that I haven't been at the office, because seriously, this kid has been sleeping like crazy. And in between his 2-hour-long naps, he wants to sit on the couch next to me, nomming on cereal and occasionally laying his head on me. Putting him on the floor is acceptable for a few minutes at a time, but goodness forbid that I walk out of the room.

It really could be much worse, acutally. Having four teeth coming in simultaneously would turn most babies in to those shrieking monkeys that you can always hear from outside the zoo. Miles is quiet, and really hasn't cried much at all. He just wants to be close to Patrick or me, cuddling close for a bit of comfort. And sleeping. A lot. Which should equal more regular blog updates, but I'm trying to spend that time returning my house to some semblance of order, and preparing for each night of rehearsals as they come.

Speaking of which, I have dishes to do, a character survey to write, and lesson planning to do for tonight's rehearsal. So, adieu, until I find five minutes to post again! :)

*Seriously. Four at once. What is with this kid? He doesn't do anything by half. . .

Honesty.

Can I be entirely honest for a moment?

The last few weeks have been rough. Miles has teeth coming in - I can see them under the gums, but they just won't push through. They've been like that for almost three weeks. As a result, my happy-go-lucky boy is often fussy at the best of times, and flat out screams for hours at the worst. And I am afraid that I'm not handling it well. After bouts of crying that last for more than fifteen minutes, I find myself putting him in the crib and closing the door, while I lay curled up, sobbing, on the couch with my hands over my ears until he finally wears himself out and falls asleep.

Yes, the last few weeks have been rough.

With that being said, I think I see the light at the end of the tunnel. Miles has finally started sleeping for longer stretches again - seven hours, the last three nights - which means that I am finally getting sleep, too. And his naps are beginning to improve. He's currently out for his second nap of the day - it's been an hour, and I haven't heard a peep.

And then, today, we played on the bed for 45 minutes. I tickled him and nommed on his belly. He giggled for all he was worth. And suddenly, the last few weeks began to melt away. As though they never happened.

I know that I have many more battles ahead of me on this roller coaster called parenthood. But, I think I can honestly say that I am winning this one against my own frustration. And it's all to see this beautiful smile.

Lucky

I had planned to write earlier, but well, crying baby happened. In a big way. For two hours straight. For no apparent reason.

I blame teething. Stupid teeth.

Anyhow, this is not about me whining about my kid whining, 'cuz that's just ridiculous, ya know?*

The point is: I'm incredibly lucky.

I know, I know. Those last few lines just seem kinda contradictory, don't they? But they're not. And I'm going to tell you why, right now, instead of rambling on like I have been thus far.**

I'm incredibly lucky because in the midst of this crying spree, at my wit's end, I finally accessed one of my favorite resources: a forum board of other mommies. Nice ones - not the poopy-faced ones that gripe at each other all day. I only go to that board when I'm bored. Anyhow, I tell them what's going on, and within minutes, I have 5 responses. Most of them reassure me it's probably just teething, and there's not much to be done. But they offer me e-hugs, and support, and a voice of experience to say "It won't last forever." Blessing number one.

I'm incredibly lucky because when the forum boards had little to offer other than sympathy, I sent a text message to my husband, expressing my frustration. Partially because I needed to vent, and partially looking for suggestions that I may have forgotten in the mind-numbing white noise of endless crying. Fifteen minutes later, he walked in the door, took Miles, and told me to go get ice cream. Blessing number two.

I'm incredibly lucky because when I was getting my things together to go get ice cream, Stacey showed up at the door, as if on cue. She listened to me ramble as I drove to Dairy Queen, and continually reassured me that I was not a terrible mother, and that everyone has bad days. She sat in the sunlight and ate ice cream with me. And when the time was right, she gently guided the conversation away from Miles so that I could stop stressing for a few minutes. Blessing number three.

When we returned, Miles was sleeping soundly, and the three of us sat around kibbitzing for a little while before going to dinner. Miles woke up in a better mood, and our evening went smoothly, and all was well.

And I'm incredibly lucky because the day is over, and I can sleep now. Blessing number four.

*Apparently, I've been reading too many other blogs and their 'voice' is rubbing off. I'm in such need of sleep that I'm taking on the e-personality of random individuals I've never met. Great.

**And then I'm going to bed. Wow, I need the sleep.

New Teether = Al Pacino

You weren't supposed to get an update today. I was supposed to be in Topeka visiting Tracy and her four amazing children. Unfortunately, one of them is running a fever, so we can't go. We don't want to expose Miles . . . :(

On the upside, that means that you get an update! Aren't you excited?!? You should be. :)

I offer you further proof that I am a Bad Mommy:

Yes, that is my son, teething on a dill pickle. And yes, that is my hand holding the pickle. I told you I was a Bad Mommy. First, no socks. Second, note the lack of pants. Then, I take my son out to a parade where he gets far too cold. And now, I'm letting him teethe on a pickle.

Before you know it, he's going to be talking like Al Pacino, and looking like this:

What you lookin' at?

The Joys of Teething

So, today has been a looooooooong day.

Let me just start by saying that teething is a b*tch. Seriously. Those top two teeth are thisclose to coming through the gums, but they just won't do it. Which results in a baby who gnaws on his hands constantly. Which causes him to gag, and puke, and worry his Mama. It also results in a baby who can no longer sleep through the night.

I knew it was too good to be true when he started sleeping from 10:00pm until 8:00 am every night - starting at about 8 weeks old. Last night, he finally zonked out around 10:30, and I followed suit about a half an hour later. At 3:30, he woke up screaming, gnawing on his fists like there was no tomorrow. We patted him, soothed him, gave him a bottle, and he finally fell back asleep around 4:00. About 5:30, he woke up fussing because his pacifier had fallen out. I gave it back, and he went right back to sleep. He woke up screaming at 7:00, gnawing on those hands again, but not really wanting anything. Patrick soothed him this time, and Miles finally fell back asleep at 7:30. Patrick's alarm started going off at 7:40, and by 8:00, all three of us were up for the day.

In any other context, that sort of sleep interruption would constitute torture. Do you think we can get the UN Peacekeepers to come talk to Miles about this? :)

Not having had enough sleep, Miles was a little cranky-butt for about 20 minutes after waking up. He finally decided that he wanted the bottle I had been shoving in his face since he woke up. Then, all was better for awhile. We played with the play gym. We had tummy time. We played with a jingle ball. Ate another bottle. Lots of happy smiles all around.

Around 10:30, he finally started getting sleepy, so I popped him in his stroller (which makes a great portable bed, by the way), got him all settled with a pacifier and his Glow Worm, and put him in the bathroom so I could take a quick shower. 20 minutes later, he was still awake, fighting sleep, as only he knows how. I scooped him up and we cuddled down for a cozy little nap.

45 minutes later, he decided that screaming his head off into Mom's ear was an appropriate way to wake her. :(

He was hungry, still making up for the food he lost in the fiasco that was Sunday, I guess. He ate again, and was happy to play again. This time, I laid him beside me on the couch to nap while I grabbed some lunch. I was hoping this would be his long nap. No such luck. 20 minutes later, he woke up, hungry again.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Now, we're in the nap section of our little cycle, and I'm wondering how long it will last this time. If I thought for a moment that it would last for a reasonable amount of time, I'd curl up on the floor next to him. As it is, I've been awakened by a screaming baby enough for one day.

And, through all of this, he is gnawing on his hands as though he planned to swallow them, arm and all. The two teeth still haven't pushed through, but they're there, just beneath the surface, every time he bites down on my finger. I keep hoping that next time he bites, it will be a little sharper, because that may mean a little relief for my handsome little man.

In the meantime, anyone know the number for the UN?