Silly Truman

 

 

 

 

Dear Trumonkey,

I'm attempting to collect some of the small, favorite, and exasperating moments from your life so far.

10/3/13 : Put this under exasperating: Mere hours after I gave birth to you, you overfilled your diaper with poop. First, you have to understand that I just gave birth to an enormous baby and it took several minutes for me just to stand up and lean over you to check your diaper. It was the middle of the night. Of course, your father was sound asleep. As I was trying (so so hard) to clean up your poop diaper, that's when you let go and peed all over yourself and me. I could barely stand, we were both covered in pee and pope, and I just didn't know how to proceed! Luckily the nurse picked that moment to come in. It was a sign of things to come from you!

10/6/13 : You got your first sponge bath at home. Not wanting to miss anything, Fletcher pulled a stool over and got right in on the action. And then you peed in his face. 

10/7/13 : I took Fletcher to school and then sat in the car with you for two hours, just holding you as you slept. You slept a lot during my maternity leave (except, of course, when I wanted to sleep or shower).

10/27/13 : You went trick-or-treating as a little green froggy in your stroller. Your brother was Thomas the Train. We were so overrun with trick-or-treaters that we ran out of candy and I had to turn the lights off just to buy some time to feed you.

11/10/13 : You were baptized.

11/15/13 : Your first day at daycare. Leaving the building and getting into my empty car was weird and terrible. I think you slept most of the time, and then Daddy had to adjust to taking care of you and Fletcher on his own.

1/22/14 : You got your first tooth already!

2/5/14 : You got your second tooth already!

2/7/14 : At your four-month checkup, you were 27 inches and almost 18 pounds. When they were giving you immunizations, your brother crawled up on the exam table and got very upset for you, saying, "No poking. NO."

2/15/14 : You slept through the night for ten full hours in your car seat near my bed. When you woke up in the morning, I heard you making little cooing and raspberry sounds. I turned toward you, and we just looked at each other happily in the dim morning light, saying our good-mornings.

2/16/14 : Your first rice cereal. It was the start of your deep love for food. ;)

At one point, Fletcher got all up in your face and you somehow managed to get his nose in your mouth. Ever since, Fletcher has tried to recreate it because it was so funny to him. I love when Fletcher says "Truman tooted," "Silly Truman," and "Mommy loves Truman too." When Daddy does daycare pickup, he sometimes asks Fletcher if he should leave you there, because it's nice that the idea upsets him.

Since March, you've been napping better, and it has improved your mood (knock on wood). You've become extra interested in touching and manipulating things. You love to pull and push our hanging plant (Gladys), and you crunch her leaves in your little fists. If the person holding you takes a drink, you get excited and swat at the can or glass. You enjoy looking at yourself in the mirror and chewing on your blankets and fists. You love swiping your hand on the screen of my tablet, trying to grab things from the screen. When we feed you rice cereal, your arms swing wildly and you open your mouth like a baby bird. You can sort of sit up on your own, but it's mostly your big belly propping you up!

Daddy claims you rolled from back to stomach on 1/31/14 and stomach to back on 2/6/14, but I'll believe it when I see it! 

When Daddy or Fletcher jump in front of you, you have the most wonderful giggle. And you love holding my hand almost as much as I love holding yours.

I can't wait to see what you'll do next.

Love,
Mommy

18 months old

Happy 18 months, kiddo.

He's always known what he wants. But now he'll throw epic tantrums if we don't genuflect to King Fletcher, Almighty Ruler of Schultz Land.

He moves constantly, climbs everything, runs long distances in an irresistible prance, is getting even more teeth (will have 16 by Christmas), loves pasta and pizza more than any other foods, refuses to subject himself to diaper changes unless he's given an extra special "toy" (must be new with every diaper changing... we're running out of ideas here...), sleeps indefinitely if you don't wake him up, loves being outside, and says "dada" and "momom." We're working on other words too.

two of a kind

molars suck

Hey, molars! You suck.

Even now, I just ran upstairs because he was crying in his crib, but I stopped outside his door. What could I do for him? Nothing. I don't have a magic soothing touch to make it better. That's one of those great lies you discover when you become a mom.

I breathed silently, listening as his frustrated cry was defeated by sleep. An entire evening week of orajel, ibuprofen, teethers, and it isn't getting better. What haven't we tried? Baby dentures?

I remember commiserating over my teething infant with Angela, who said, "Wait until molars." I get it now. It turns out we spend a large portion of our second (and third) year on this earth in horrible pain. This explains a lot.

In other news, my husband ran a half-marathon because, *shrug*, why not? One of his best characteristics is his ability to follow through, even when he does little or nothing to prepare. He started a new job today, too, *shrug*. After a few weeks with him as a stay-at-home dad, now we have to get used to being single parents all over again. While Fletch is getting his first molars. Yippee.

Fun.

He eats an ice cream cone better than I do.

sweeper

is the carpet clean yet?

all right, let's vacuum!

it puts the lotion on its skin

rare moment of happiness

at the park

hi, daddy!

End Note: Between Fletcher and I, we managed to wear three different states on our T-shirts in these pictures. Weird.

change

You hear all the time that all things change and you can't avoid change. Nowhere has that been more obvious to me than with my baby.

There's nothing I could love more than him, which is why it is so jarring to wake up one day and his personality is barely recognizable. The sound of his voice is different. The way he laughs is different. His cry is different. The way he nurses, his appetite, his reactions are all different.

When I tried to communicate how lost I feel, Andy said, "Do you think I came home from the gas station with the wrong baby?"

It could be a growth spurt. It could be his (two!) teeth. It could be the natural way these things go. The same thought kept occurring to me today -- this could be the way things are now. The crying and apparent anger and unhappiness might be more than just holiday confusion and teething. This could be the baby's personality for the foreseeable future.

After spending half an hour crying for no obvious reason, something he never used to do, he's now sleeping, and I'm breathing deeply and finding anchors -- comforting things that haven't changed, that I can count on to stay the same.

My love for my baby hasn't changed. If anything, I love him more in his time of need.

My love for my husband hasn't changed. If anything, it's stronger in my time of need.

My home is still here. My job is unchanged. I am still me.

For better or for worse. In the laughter and the tears. I can't promise I won't break down and cry whenever he does, but that's okay. We're a family and we have each other.

Ten things that didn't suck but now they suck just a little bit

10) Office Lunches. Free food isn't worth going ten hours without the baby and having to add another session with the breast pump to my work day.

9) Pumping. It used to be easy. But the twins have caught on that this isn't natural and this contraption isn't really a baby. Now they must be beaten into submission. Twice a day. And sometimes on weekends. Especially on holidays.

8) Holidays. I'm new at this. Eventually I'll figure out how to haul a baby, diaper bag, breast pump with car adapter, boppy pillow, teething gel, toys, blankets, and spoon feeding supplies to six different places in three days plus a trip to Wal-Mart during the busiest shopping weekend without forgetting the baby's jacket or, you know, having a meltdown.

7) Shopping. It used to be great to browse around, especially at Christmas. Now there aren't words dark enough for how much other shoppers at our Wal-Mart suck. The gift I have for repressing my feelings among these rude, inconsiderate, clueless strangers will fail one day soon, resulting in a volcano of cart-crashing rage.

6) Teeth. They are so not worth what it takes to grow them.

5) Toys With Catchy Music. Get it out of my head. Get it out of my head!

4) Cats. If the baby's blanket is on the floor, a cat will be on it. If the baby's toy is on the floor, a cat will be playing with it. If neither of these is the case, the cats will be on the kitchen table, on the kitchen counters, or in the kitchen sink, doing their damnedest to get cat hair on every single surface.

3) Driving. We don't really fit in our cars anymore. Even without my family and the required bags, my back pain has gotten to the point where I despise sitting anywhere, especially my car.

2) Showering. It was one of the best parts of the day. It would relieve some of my back pain, it was relaxing, it was great to be clean. Now it takes twice as long as I dash in and out of the bathtub to rescue the baby who has found some new crevice to roll into and smack his head.

1) Independence. Andy and I always were independent of each other, with nearly opposite schedules, and it worked fine. Now, sometimes it's like being a single parent.

tooth

We've had a rough night.

Having a baby is an education. One finger at a time, I've had to loosen my grip on my sense of order.

Sometimes, I have to give up and let him roll around in half-buttoned pajamas. He won't let me tidy him up, not without hysterical motion and fussing.

Sometimes, I have to give up and let him wear clothes marked with drool, spit-up, milk, and baby food all day. Changing him is futile.

Sometimes, I have to accept that he's going to squeal and complain in McDonald's, no matter how many other diners we might be bothering.

I've had to accept a home filled with clutter. A routine so unpredictable it shouldn't be called a routine. A horrible night that until moments ago had no explanation.

I have to accept that there is nothing I can do to stop the pain of that tiny, sharp little tooth now poking up through his bottom gums.

My poor, poor baby.

16w 4d teething?

Let it be known that the concept of being able to get more done when you're really busy only applies when you're in school. In my case, anyway. I actually had to bring up a calendar and count out the weeks since May 23 in order to ensure I had the proper title on this post, that's how long it's been. Blog? What blog? I don't have a blog! Oh wait...

Fletcher had one fantastic week of sleeping through the night and being the personification of AWESOME. And then all hell broke loose with the arrival of those teeny tiny teeth swelling up under his baby gums. To be fair, he was high maintenance but still not as bad as that kid in line at the Wal-Mart. You know the one I'm talking about.

So there was a lot of holding and rocking and trying to distract him. Lots of teething rings and nuks and drool and I learned that it is possible for a mouth that has no teeth to pulverize my finger. And make it pruny.

Then on Tuesday? He got over it. Like, that was SO last week. He's still drooling and chomping and if he grabs my finger it ends up pulverized inside his slobbery mouth. But he's happy. And finally, last night, he slept through the night once again.

Hallelujah!

Um, but why? He had been displaying all the signs of teething. Does that really take a break? Did his teeth go on vacation? How long will we have utopia before the other shoe drops? Because I know I didn't buy that Baby Orajel for nothing.