No, I'm not referring to my Fourth of July plans, since we don't have any. I'm referring to the longshoreman-like farts and robust bowel blowout our little boy had yesterday afternoon. This came as a relief to all of us, not just him, since he'd been extra-cranky all day long, refusing to take naps and engaging in other sorts of nonsense. This was unlike him; his cries of LA LA LA even drove me to tears at one point. But once he'd finally worked out his, ah, issues, he was a perfect angel for the rest of the day/evening. And let me give a shoutout to my husband, who came home early to help me deal with the angry lad. So far, today seems better - we had an issue with the most recent nap, but I think that was due to the crap (ha! crap!) swaddle I'd executed, so I fixed it. Fingers crossed.
Anyway, this experience made me realize that if I were given a choice between having breastfeeding difficulties and having a colicky baby, I'd take the former. I'll pretend that I was given that choice.
In other news, I had a moment of complete perspective distortion this morning. As you know, I am home the whole day right now since we're hewing pretty closely to the schedule the baby nurses implemented. They're down on the whole leaving-the-house thing until the baby has his routine down and also until he's had his shots. So when So.ren is napping, I spend a lot of time on the Internets, or listening to a book on the CD player, or reading the New Yorker - all with the TV on CNN on mute in the background. Lately, there's been a bunch of coverage of floods, this pro wrestler murder-suicide situation, etc. So today when there was news of a foiled terrorist plot, my first reaction was that at least there'd be something interesting on TV. I have since recovered my sanity and should point out that I do not wish terrorist attacks on anyone.
I've also noticed that whenever So.ren is sleeping, I always think I can go run an errand or take a walk. Then I remember you can't do that. Ideally, this initial sense of freedom will simply go away and I'll forget I ever felt it.
2 comments:
Just wanted to say how much I love reading your blog. It always makes me laugh! I had a similar blowout situation this week with little Zach. Poor little guy couldn't be consoled until he worked things out. Never thought I'd be so happy to see a dirty diaper.
That's so funny about forgetting you can't go out. It must take a while to go away, because just last week, one evening after we'd put the girls to bed and eaten dinner, A. said "want to take a walk?" and I said, without even thinking, "I would, but I'm too tired." Our two infants sleeping upstairs had totally slipped our minds. Crazy! (I wonder what kind of range a baby monitor gets?)
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