What A Foul Morning

Reminder to self: weeping will not help.

But sometimes, you just wanna sit and cry, you know?

I've been sick since September, and thinking back, I had the first cold in mid August, so it's been about six months since I have felt healthy. This is not me; this is not normal. This is baby's first winter in day care, and this is what happens to at least one of the parents, at least in my anecdotal sampling of personal experience. Maybe it's only a first child thing, I don't know, and maybe there is actual research to support my suppositions, but I am too tired and sick to look for it. Suffice to say, I think that Finn and I share the same immune system, so whatever he gets, I get. Pete does not.

Finn was just in for his 18 month appointment. All is well. He had his Pc and HiB boosters (now I only have Hep B and Polio to catch up on, along with his H1N1 and seasonal flu boosters, in the first week of January). He's on the curve or done with catch-up for most of his charts, except for weight, I think). 20 pounds, 13 ounces and 30 inches. He's nursing and eating like a champ (peas are a current favorite). He's happy and social. He's been sleeping like crap again, but that's a chore for the new year.

He does have an ear infection, though, so he's on the pink stuff again. I have the same thing, but it sure seems worse than his. I'm at work today, but I shouldn't be. Pete was in a bad mood all day yesterday, and today he was complaining about day care being a pain because it takes two hours out of our day every day, but we don't want to switch him, so it's just complaining (we have not been able to get back to our bus routine since Thanksgiving; another chore for the new year). It piles up on me, though. I feel it like a weight. Maybe it's because I am sick; maybe it's because I blame myself for pretty much everything, but when Pete turns into a little black rain cloud, I feel like a failure. My house (I had it when we met) is too small. I have too much stuff. The baby is not sleeping by himself. Day care is too far away. The house is a mess. There's too much to do. There's no time. He's not getting laid. (That last one is actually the first one, and the one that I think contributes to all the others being frustrating for him. Plus, it blows to have a constantly sick partner.)

All my fault, my brain says.

But truly, weeping will not help.

Happy baby was sitting in his new, gigantic, forward-facing car seat (over 20 pounds and over one year old; rear-facing is still safer, and I wanted to leave him rear-facing in town, but... whatever), and he loves it. He can see out the windows, he can see us. He did not fall asleep this morning like he usually does.

And now, I should get back to drowning in work.

TGIF

For the last few weeks (if I had the desire, I could look it up, and find the exact date), Finn has been unwilling to go into his crib to sleep at night. We had a good stretch where he was sleeping pretty well, perhaps waking up once, maybe twice, but basically sleeping from 8:30 p.m. until 4:30 in the morning.

Then, one night, I could not get him into his crib. I thought it was an anomaly, and that the next night, Pete would be able to work his Sandman magic and get him back into the baby bed, but to no avail. We settled back into co-sleeping, one of us at a time, with the boy. We kept trying, kept up the front end part of our night-time routine, but that last bit was failing. I thought it was a developmental thing, or maybe due to the never-ending cycle of colds, and I thought it would change, as it had changed before.

It hasn't yet. And we have been getting periodic lectures from day care, and then there's the holiday travel, and then there's me, being the one who thinks that he's a baby, and if he wants me or Pete, isn't that what's supposed to happen? He's a baby.

It's Friday night. Extras from "Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince" are looping in the background. It's Pete's birthday weekend, and I know he was hoping for some adult contact with his spouse, but he's in consoling the boy, and I am here. With you. We got him into the crib, but he woke up an hour and a half later, like old, old times. We let him fuss for almost ten minutes. It did not get much worse, but it certainly did not get better, and Pete went in to get him.

Perhaps we should have waited longer, and no doubt, others would agree, and perhaps we will get to the point where we can. Goodness knows, ten minutes is the longest we have lasted, and if I were not here, Pete would probably last longer, but maybe not. It's not our goal to let him cry it out, anyway. At least, it's not my goal. It is our goal to tackle this after the holidays. The exact plan is yet-to-be-specified.

Perhaps it involves me being somewhere else entirely for a week.

Pictures from Oma

A Balm for the Sleepless...
Pictures!

The family, with Hammy McShowoff

Good looking couple:

He wanted that on his head, really:

Dueling spoons:

Sleep Lectures

NO, our baby is not the best sleeper in the world.

THANKS, I don't want to read any more sleep books.

I don't want to be lectured or made to feel bad or told, in a roundabout way, that I am doing something wrong because my baby wakes up a lot.

All this talk about "self settling" can sometimes make sense to me, but when I start to really think about it, and apply it to a baby, it makes less sense. Isn't "self settle" just a euphemism for "scream in the crib"? What's the difference between crying it out and self settling? Adults making themselves feel better?

Oh, I don't know.

I do know, however, that sleep deprived people do not take kindly to repeated advice.

No Degrees

It's beginning to look a lot like A Christmas Story...

There are no degrees outside right now, and the wind makes it less than no degrees. It's a squeaky snow, freezy snot morning. Finn sang in his car seat and Pete grumbled in the drivers' seat. My butt was warm because the new car has butt warmers.

Cool

And not just because Minnesota just got buried in its first substantial snowfall.

We managed to get out of the house and get everyone to day care or work, and I was only two hours late! I say "only" in order to make it sound like it was an achievement. But, all in all, what with Pete doing the snow removal for two neighbors plus ourselves, we did pretty well.

Finn and I stayed inside, and he did some of this:

Cute reminder

The Boy was up about every half an hour all through the night last night due to a new cold, teething, and/or demon possession. We're not sure which, and the test for demon possession is remarkably unreliable, so we will probably never know. It's been a long time since he has done that, but it does not make me feel (or look) any better this fine, wintery morning.

I have bundled the boys off to daycare and work, and I am getting myself together here at home.

I feel that I need to remind myself that this boy is adorable and a true joy to our lives, so that I don't exercise my circus option. Here's my new hat, off the needles, woven in, and ready for my head, modeled very stylishly by my remarkably alert son. I give you, the side-slip cloche:

No Mama

When I dropped Finn off at day care this morning, his age-mate friend, A- was walking all over the place. A bit wobbly, but perfectly serviceable and chosen over crawling. He's been walking since he was about 15 months old.

As a parent, you always have to try not to compare your child to other children. It's tempting and delectable to think "My kid's doing better than that kid," but it's another thing to think "My kid's not doing that yet." When your kid was a preemie, you also have to do some quick math to get to his adjusted age to make the correct comparison.

Finn has been talking steps here and there. More often in the last few days. It's pretty cool. I know that babies all progress at different rates, and not every child can be exceptional. Finn already had a pretty good bout with exceptionable behavior, so I can't look at A- and worry about Finn, and Rational Me doesn't.

When Pete picked Finn up at day care this afternoon, A- was walking around, waving a train around, yelling "Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!"

I never liked that kid.

Holiday Photo Contest

Vote for my kid, because I think he's pretty cute.

You can vote every hour, but you have to register.
Or, you have to register, but you can vote every hour.

Breakfast at Concord

Wordy

Daddy, doggie, and cow have been confirmed.

Necklace is rumored. I did not hear that one, so I am reserving word approval.

He has his own words, sounds that he repeats often, but we can't identify what he means.

Mama is a no go.

Diaper Report

We went through 27 G-Diapers and 21 Pampers-type diapers in about six days. So that's $12.99 for 27 Huggies (or whatever; and what's with the odd-numbered diaper packaging?) and $13.79 for 32 G-Diapers. 48 cents for a Pamper and 43 cents for a G makes for $11.61 on the G's and $10.08 for the P's. At 8 diapers a day, that's $3.62 per day. 2,920 diapers a year at $1321.30. Off hand, I know that we spent $444.75 on all-in-ones for day care. I would have to add up all his other diaper expenses to compare in full. We have not had to buy pre-folds for months and months; he's been in the same size for quite awhile. I had to buy some larger covers for night-time because I've been using his preemie pre-folds as doublers, but his medium covers still fit ok for day-time use.

All in all, it doesn't really matter; it's just interesting data. I'll still use the cloth because I prefer them. A week of disposables definitely proved that to me.

Flu Shots

Rah! Rah! Rah!

Finn gets his H1N1 and seasonal shots on Friday afternoon.

I am just happy to have this on the calendar. Still have to get our H1N1, but I am unclear as to whether or not our health plan is offering it to folks like us yet.

That's all I wanted to say right now.

Oh, except for this link from the CDC on fraudulent H1N1 products.