Fits and Freedom

I began writing this update a few weeks ago, at the very peak of Joseph’s separation anxiety. I decided to hold off on sharing it until I could actually see a light at the end of the tunnel (which everyone assured me would occur). Admittedly, I did have my doubts. Especially when his daycare teachers tried to appease me, saying that this phase was normal, but also added Joseph was a bit more “stagy” than the other babies!

About a month and a half ago (and literally overnight), Joseph decided that I was his best friend, the be all end all of pacifiers, and I was never ever allowed to leave him. I think if he could’ve somehow affixed himself to me, he would have.

Daycare drops off were dramatic to say the least. I think my anxiety started brewing before I even pulled out of the driveway in the morning. It’s a short ten minute drive. We usually sing to the radio, and sometimes Joseph even sneaks in a few minute nap. Going into school, settling him in…all goes well. He laughs, he’s happy to see his little buddy Ethan, and all of the other little kiddos. I sign him in, chat with his teacher. Then here it comes…I pick up my keys and try my hardest to not let them rattle. Tara inconspicuously turns him to face the opposite direction and tries to keep his attention with some toys. I creep toward the door. Then, there it is…the shriek. It’s not your run of the mill shriek either. My kid screams like he has the lungs of an elephant. He has literally cried so long and loud that he has briefly lost his voice. While I know I’m not doing him any favors, the angst ridden mom in me has occasionally turned back around to calm him. And yes, it does make me feel better! It’s an instantaneous fix too. One second- tantrums and tears…the next- complete calm. There have also been days that I have stuck to my guns, drawn a hard line and bee-lined for the door. Those are the days that I pretty much cry most of the way to work, and find myself calling his daycare 15 minutes later to check on him. Usually he’s better, but I’m still not! Damn hormones.

Arriving home from work in recent days has also had its share of turmoil. Matt picks up Joseph from daycare around 3pm each day and spends the afternoon with him until I get home around 6ish. From all reports, they enjoy each other’s company…that is, until I walk in the door. The second I am in eyesight or ear range, the fits begin. To even use the restroom or change my clothes when I get home, I have to sneak in a side door and slip upstairs before being spotted. And bedtime has not even been a possibility unless mommy is putting him to sleep.

Grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, friends...it’s always the same. He only wants me. I must confess, I do find it gratifying sometimes. There’s something about him knowing that I am his mom, and thinking that I will make everything all better. Other times, it’s not so fun. Like when all I want to do is finish eating my dinner, but the thought of someone else holding him is bringing him to the point of hyperventilation. Or when I just need to pee real quick and can’t walk away for one minute without him having a complete breakdown. And when bottles need to be washed and I’m juggling a baby in one arm and dishes in the other, and both of us are getting soaked from my terrible coordination and balance.

Things are slowly getting better though. The daycare drop offs thus far this week have went pretty smoothly. And getting home at the end of the day has gotten a little better. I think the turning point came with his advancement in crawling. He’s been attempting it for several weeks now, but something clicked over Thanksgiving week. No more scooching for him, he gets around the house nowadays like a turtle on speed. This new sense of freedom has somewhat distracted him from his recent mommy complex (I stress somewhat). Now, instead of crying as soon as he spots me, he furiously crawls to wherever I walk to, giggling and grunting the entire time.

We are now faced with an entire new array of stresses. No toys for him…he only wants outlets, electrical cords, and plastic packaging. I spent the day Saturday baby proofing our family room. This day came up on me quicker than I thought it would. I had to replace a glass coffee table with a fabric ottoman, cover all open electrical outlets, and position every cord out of reach. Joseph still managed to find the one cord behind the couch that I thought was inaccessible. He bolts straight toward the covered outlets no matter what toys are available to him. And, he picked up every piece of plastic Christmas decoration packaging before I had any chance to throw it away.

In classic mom form, I have mastered the art of sternly calling “JOSEPH MATTHEW,” whenever he’s heading toward something that he shouldn’t be. And in perfect response he stops, looks directly at me for 5-10 seconds, then gives me a defiant smile and crawls even faster toward his target. It’s an endlessly funny and aggravating game we play.

On Sunday we were going to get our Christmas tree, but in a moment of clarity, realized there was no way to keep our little danger magnet away from it, so we decided to hold off until some safety measures could be put in place. After some web surfing on Monday, I found a perfect gate to fit around the tree. Tree hunting is back on the schedule for this Friday. Can’t wait to see how this goes!

Bring on HallowThanksMas!!!

I'm stoked about the holidays! Normally I'm their #1 fan, but this year (and beyond) they seem even more cool. Getting to have those little flashbacks of what Halloween, Christmas, and Thanksgiving felt like as kid...just getting to see them through Joseph's eyes is going to be super fun! I’m not trying to oversell this…I get that Joseph is just an infant, and he won’t really get what’s going on, but I see the excitement in his eyes from regular things every day, so I’m sure that fun costumes, lots of family, tasty new foods, and sparkly Christmas ornaments won’t disappoint him (or me)!

I think I started looking for Joseph's Halloween costume sometime around mid-August (I'm seriously that kind of excited)! I had been trying to come up with the perfect 1st costume. I narrowed it down to a few choices, was going to order one pretty early just to make sure it fit (my kid is still in the 5th percentile, so normal sizes don’t always apply). As I logged onto the internet to place the order, I did one last google search- just to see if there was anything that I liked better. Big, big mistake.

A cute little turtle costume turned up on the 3rd page of the search…a cute little homemade costume. That gave me a great idea. What better tradition to start? I could make Joseph’s Halloween costume! After all, every costume that I can remember wearing as a kid was homemade. How hard could it be?

If you all aren’t wondering “What was she thinking?” yet, just keep reading.

Since I only had a picture and absolutely no instructions on how to actually make this costume, I set out to make a plan.

“Hmm...perhaps this part could be a onesie…maybe I could attach this with Velcro…just a little spray paint...some glue…maybe a button here…a little stuffing…and of course, paper mache!"

Looking back on this now, I can see the many flaws of this plan (none of which really trump the paper mache idea). I can barely find time to accommodate a daily shower, and I was setting out to sew and paper mache a Halloween costume for a 7 month old. At least common sense told me to start this process early (in the off chance it didn’t work out and we needed to go buy a costume).

I settled on the crockpot lid to use as my turtle shell cast...perfect oval shape. Joseph and I spent a Saturday afternoon in early September ripping up old magazines and newspapers for the paper mache. He did rip a few pieces, but he mainly just rolled around in the paper laughing and adding his own special touches of drool and spit up to the pile.

I haven't paper mache'd anything since 7th grade Spanish class. Tammy Pittman and I made a Big Mac piñata for our final project. When we presented it during class, people asked us what it was...and if I wasn't the one who made it, I probably wouldn't have known what it was either. It wasn't so good, and neither was our grade.

I forgot how gross paper mache glue is, but I was reminded how easy it is to make, and excited that it didn't require any trips to the grocery store. Determined to involve Joseph in as much of this project as possible, he assisted me in dipping the paper into the glue.  But, after a few times of deflecting him from eating the flour mixture, I decided to finish this part up on my own. 

After about the 10th layer of paper strips, my hands were goo covered and pruned from the paste, and I think I had the first flash of "what the heck was I thinking?" Four days later, I had a 25 layer newsprint covered crock pot lid. And a week after that, I plopped out a perfectly shaped and sturdy "turtle shell."

Time to paint. I spray painted a few base coats of green. It wasn't really that simple. The first spray of the paint went directly in my face because I didn't pay attention to the direction the nozzle was pointed. I had to loofah the paint off of my cheeks in the shower that night. The second coat of green ended up spraying the cat as he chased a butterfly right through my work zone. I didn't bother to clean that, figuring it would eventually come off of him. After the third coat, I lost motivation, and my little project sat unattended for about three weeks.

This brings us to Halloween morning. I had a solid green cast of a crock pot lid. That's it. It was a Sunday, and it had been two weeks since Matt and I had been to church. I was suddenly feeling motivated (or maybe just super guilty from my procrastination) to get this turtle finished. My reasoning behind not wanting to go to church probably didn't fit into the valid excuses category, but nevertheless, I did try to convince Matt that it was a good reason. He proceeded to give me the whole "if you're not committed to going, then why did we join...blah, blah, blah" speech. On top of feeling guilty about my kid not having a Halloween costume, I now had church guilt eating at me (it didn't help that someone from the congregation stopped by later in the afternoon to give us a bulletin from the service, and make sure we were ok). I read our church newsletter while I was drinking my morning coffee, hoping that would count for something, and spent the next 2 hours working on the costume. A little more painting, some hot gluing, fabric and velcro application, and finally I had a finished shell!

Fast forward to Halloween night. Joseph was in that darn costume for about 25 minutes (if that). He kept pulling the shell off and playing with it. And when he did wear it, he repeatedly tried to roll over and continually got stuck. Luckily, the shell was pretty strong, and never caved in (which was my fear). Eventually I just had to wait for him to get in a good pose, drop the shell on his back real quick, and snap the pictures. But I did get some good ones!

So, the moral of the story...was it a pain in the butt to make? A little. Would I do it again next year? Of course.

Now bring on Thanksgiving and those hand-traced turkeys!

Confessions of a worry wart

In the back of my mind, I’ve been thinking my kid might be a hunchback. Joseph rolled over pretty early at about 10 weeks. He started rice cereal and advanced to food well ahead of when the doctor predicted he would. He began sitting in his Bumbo seat before he even fit in it. By all accounts he’s achieved many milestones a little ahead or right on target, especially for his small size. All except sitting up. Most kids I know his age are sitting up by now. For the past couple weeks, I’ve been trying to encourage him to sit up without support. Each time he leans forward and touches his abdomen straight to the ground, in perfect gym class form. Yes, he’s a flexible little guy, but why won’t he sit? As with most things anymore, I jumped right to thinking something must be wrong. Before he was born, a test showed an indicator for spina bifida…could this be related to why he’s not sitting up? I know…I’m nuts, my kid doesn’t have spina bifida! He is perfectly normal and healthy. Last night, after creating much undue worry in my head, my fears were alleviated as I watched Joseph sit up all by himself in his own time.

As a new mom, worry becomes a constant. Some worries are warranted, some spring straight out of “new parent” paranoia, and some…well I really can’t say where they stem from, but they do seem a little out there when I find the time to reflect on them! From constantly fearing that someone will drop my child to imagining that he has some sort of severe undiagnosed illness with every sniffle or cough, I think I must carry around 10lbs of anxiety at all times!

Case No. 1: When Joseph was about 2 months old, I found a deer tick behind his left ear. I was alone, and I was in a panic. My crazy post partum mind immediately diagnosed him with an incurable case of Lyme disease. I sprung into action…the tick had a pretty good grip, how was I going to get it off of him? Remembering lessons learned from my years of Girl Scout camping, I dabbed a tissue with some alcohol and held it against the tick until it backed out. Then with the level of detail of a CSI detective, I carefully bagged the tick into an evidence kit, and jumped on the phone with the pediatrician.

What? I have to wait for a call back? Don’t they understand what just happened? 15 minutes later the doctor called. Man, I was ready...we could get to the office in 20 minutes. I had that little sucker bagged and ready to be tested for whatever he might have transmitted to my helpless little boy. Through the phone, I calmly explained the horror of what happened. Our doctor, whom I thought was an advocate for my kid until this point, basically said that Joseph was fine. There was no need to bring him in. No need for a lab to dissect the tick. No need to save the tick. She went on to explain that the probability of him contracting Lyme disease or anything else from this one bug bite was very slim…and in the slight chance he did, other symptoms would begin to exhibit such as the infamous bull’s eye. She told me to flush the tick, and keep an eye on the bite for the next week or so, but not to worry. Was she crazy? Not worry!!! Well I monitored that bite 20 times a day for the next week (all the while, the tick was sitting securely on the back of the toilet) just knowing that she was wrong. Needless to say nothing ever came about with the bite, and I ended up flushing the tick about a week later. Lesson learned…no need to panic.

Case No. 2: About three weeks ago, I finally relented and began giving Joseph his Amoxicillin prescription, seeing that his cold was not going away. One teaspoon, twice a day for two weeks through an oral syringe provided by the pharmacist. After about two days on the medicine, there a marked improvement with his cold. Great, good decision, glad we started the medicine. End of story? Not quite.

Two days ago, 10 days into the prescription, I had a moment of panic. Had I been giving him the correct dosage? I don’t even know what made me think of it. The syringe was clearly labeled in “ml” and “tsp”. But did “tsp” stand for tablespoon or teaspoon? OMG!!! Had I been giving him three times the proper dosage every time? Was I overdosing Joseph on prescription medications?! I spent the next 25 minutes researching the abbreviations for teaspoon and tablespoon. Now, I’m not that dense- I took Home Economics. I know how to abbreviate tablespoon and teaspoon. But somewhere in my irrational mom mind, I was seriously doubting myself. Finally, my internet search confirmed to me that my son was not excessively medicated, and that I did indeed have a working knowledge of kitchen measurements…thanks Google! Whew!!!

Case No. 3: The tick wasn’t our only experience with an unwanted creepy-crawly. Recently, during bath time, I noticed a gnat inside the lobe of Joseph’s ear. Before I go on, I should preface this story with a brief summary of something that happened to one of my co-workers (weak stomachs beware). A friend of mine was traveling on a vacation and felt a fly on her ear. She brushed it off and went on with her day. A few hours later she began having an awful headache and ended up in the hospital. It seems that this fly in the few short seconds it was on her earlobe, laid some eggs. Gross right? Anyway, you get where this is going? After some pretty crazy and lengthy treatment, she was fine though.

Back to my gnat. How it got there, how long it had been there…I don’t know. But if you understand at all how my mind works now, you should know that I was freaked! I got it off of Joseph’s ear with a Q-tip, wiped the spot with some alcohol, and then proceeded to tell Matt my worst fears. He convinced me that I should not call the doctor, saying that I would sound completely insane if my concerns were explained to her by sharing my co-worker’s experience. And as I reflected on my previous “bug call” with the pediatrician, I agreed that it would be best to freak out on my own and refrain from sharing my outlandish fears with her. But,each time Joseph even batted at his ear over the next few days, my mind raced back to that dang gnat!

Case No. 4:  Before the Amoxicillin, I was treating Joseph’s cold with saline drops, vapor bath and Vick’s baby rub. During this course of treatment, he broke out into a bumpy skin rash all over his chest and neck. Any sane person would deduce that the rash was only occurring where the vapor rub was going…thus the vapor rub was causing the rash. While I realized that he probably didn’t have shingles, chicken pox, or some kind of autoimmune disorder, I can’t say there wasn’t a small part of me that jumped to that conclusion. I have learned and grown from the aforementioned experiences though…it is best to slightly abstain from voicing these concerns! After a few days of discontinuing the baby rub the rash disappeared. There really might be something to this cool and composed thing!

I do think that I’ve mellowed out a little over the past half a year, but ask anyone close to me, and they might disagree. So really, I’m not sure! I realize there will be bangs and bruises, bug bites, and over and under achieving at times. Each new bump in the road, provides a whole new set of worries and uncertainties. I've been told this is the norm for a very very long time. I’m trying to stay a little more chill though.

Happy half a year old

My baby boy is six months old today. A half a year! Not really sure where the time went in some ways, and in others, it feels like he’s always been here. The past months have been a lesson in life that I wouldn’t trade for anything else in the world. Yes, its easy to say that now, but maybe wouldn’t have been so easy to say it in the moment of any one of the sleepless nights, crying fits (mine and his), poopy diapers that could gag you from a mile away, gassy tummies, or mornings that started before the sun came up.  I am, by nature, not a morning person, and will not be converted, no matter how persistent Joseph is, but I have developed a bit more tolerance for them. I remember thinking, “I can’t wait until he sleeps through the night…starts sleeping in his crib…rolls over…holds his own bottle…smiles to let me know if he likes something…eats real food…breaks a tooth… fits in a regular car seat…these things will make our lives so much easier.”   

It was so easy to get wrapped up in the anticipation of him graduating from one thing to the next, that I’m not sure we fully appreciated each step along the way. It got me to thinking- this is how most of us live our lives. We are always waiting for the next thing- the thing that will top everything else, make our own world a little better, a little less difficult. I know as a kid, I couldn’t wait to be older, to do everything adults could do. But eventually, I did grow older, and then I realized the many highlights of being a kid.  It’s not that I’ve never thought about this concept before, but it took my son to make me realize how important it is to resist the urge to think like this.

At 6 months old, Joseph has done or is about to do most of the things that only a few months ago I couldn't wait for him to accomplish.  As I pack away clothes that no longer fit him, pull out new toys that he's finally old enough to play with, or pick up things off the floor so he doesn't eat them, I am reminded of how small he was just a short time ago...and I've even found myself missing those times.  

 

Perhaps the past 6 months haven't just taught me more patience, that its ok to rock sweat pants for five days in a row, better time management, a few new ways to pull my hair into a ponytail, and an entire new set of priorities. Maybe the bigger, more important lesson I’ve taken away from this experience, is that life happens whether you’re paying attention or not. Enjoy the moments, don’t rush through them. Find the happiness and purpose in even the difficult and inconvenient times.  

As for me, I will be reminding myself to take in every runny nose, belly laugh, log roll across the floor, sweet potato covered face, bottle spill, temper tantrum, pee in the tub, nap in the car, and morning smile. And although, I’ll still be looking forward to each next step, I will treasure the moment that we are in right now.

 Happy half-birthday Joseph! Mommy loves you with all her heart :)

 

The Cold That Won't Go Away

Joseph came down with his first real cold, and of course, it's breaking my heart. It's pretty much the most pathetic, pitiful thing I've ever witnessed.  Poor little snotty guy :) 

He's sporting all of the tell tale symptoms...runny raw nose, low grade fever (that has since dissipated), red-rimmed watery eyes, sleeplessness, nightime cough, etc.  No loss of appetite...but his general stuffiness is causing some struggle with the bottle.  I don't think he minds that though, b/c it just means he gets more "real" food from the spoon.  And if you haven't had the chance to catch up on the last post...HE LOVES FOOD!

We're rounding out week two of the cold that won't go away, and after a few touch bases via phone throughout the week, yesterday warranted the first sick visit to the pediatrician.  All I can say is GOOD TIMES!  Keeping a wiggly 6 month old still and quiet in order to have a rectal temperature taken, listen to their lungs, stick a popsicle stick down their throat, and the equivalent of a plunger into their ear, proved to be a little trickier than I anticipated! 

His pediatrician was concerned that there might be some fluid in his lungs, but after listening for what seemed like 10 minutes, she didn't hear anything.  We were sent home with an antibiotic which he's supposed to be starting on Friday if there's no improvement.  Not too keen on the antibiotic route, and neither was the doctor, but she seemed to think that this was bacterial vs. viral, so that would be the appropriate course of treatment.

Our daily and nightly routines have consisted of saline nose drops (that get everywhere else on Joseph's face except his nose...but hey, at least its just saline), lots of vapor rub (the smell has seeped into everything in the house), menthol baths, using the snot sucky thing (umm...not a fan, but for those of you who read my facebook message...at least I'm not sucking it out with my own mouth as one website suggested), and moving the humidifier to wherever we move Joseph.  One of my favorite highlights of the baby cold...getting my shirt used as a tissue 50 times a day as Joseph head butts me to wipe his boogers.  Again...REAL GOOD TIMES!

  

Joseph Hearts Food

 At almost 6 months, Joseph has finally started expanding his food palette. It will be interesting to see whose eating habits he inherits.

Matt will try anything, and rarely dislikes something. Me, on the other hand...I am probably one of the pickiest eaters any one of you has ever met. Matt likes to joke that I know about 50 ways to fix chicken or beef, and that just because it’s a different recipe, doesn’t mean we haven’t ate chicken five nights in a row...lol! 

One thing is clear though, Joseph loves food! We were in Target last week picking up some groceries, and he literally grabbed the baby food off of the shelf and stuffed it under his arm. I had to inspect his car seat at the checkout to make sure we weren’t shoplifting anything.

We’ve graduated from plain cereal to fruit cereal to now mashed pears and bananas...I know, you're all thinking, "so exciting," right?!!   LOL! 

He takes after me for his love of cherry snowballs, and chocolate ice cream. Biggest surprise though? The kid doesn’t like mashed potatoes!!! Seriously, what kid doesn’t like mashed potatoes? We’re working on it!  Any kid of mine MUST eat potatoes :)