Ok so I’m a day late. But close enough for a mom of four. I didn’t FORGET it was her ten month turning day I just didn’t blog it. So here it is.
This is Ella last weekend on our hike to Tokopah Falls. (Where I did actually FALL. On my face. And my thigh.) She likes rocks. And hats.
I don’t have an awesome camera but frankly, even if I did, I probably would still mostly use my phone. Beats nothing.
Anyway here’s where we are:
Weight: uh 26 pounds? thereabout. Big. Moose. Hulk. Baby. Loves milk.
Height: 29 ish inches There are percentiles for this. I don’t know what they are. Cest la vie.
Things Ella is doing:
~ Eating solid food with the family at the table about three times a day, plus if she’s fussy I’ll pop her in her chair to have a snack and chill
~ Nursing about every 2-3 hours all day. And all night. Sometimes literally all night.
~ Saying mama and dada pretty regularly. Definitely distinguishing between the two (typically saying momma when she is upset or needs something)
~ Waving. Clapping. Yelling. Peek a booing.
~ Pooping and peeing on the potty when mom or dad catches it. We haven’t had a poop diaper in about two or three months.
~ Sleeping: 2 naps a day at about 9 and 1 for about 1-2 hours each. Bedtime is 8 ish. She usually sleeps about 3-4 hours then wakes the first time when we go to bed. SO not real good. That’s fine. It doesn’t last forever.
~Crawling all over, pulling to standing, trying to cruise, trying to fall down the stairs. Trying to make me crazy.
~Pulling the cats tail. The cat loves her.
Loves: Boobies. Beans, Rice, Turkey, Avo, Banana (sometimes), blueberries (usually), apples (always), whole grain cheerios, ICE. Yo gabba gabba “there’s a party in my tummy”. Keys. The big kids. Daddy. Mommy. The pool. Trying to kill herself falling down the stairs.
Hates: Prunes. Eggs. The color yellow. The vacuum. The Kitchen Aid mixer. The pampered chef food chopper. The skin on the grapes. When the big kids are gone. When daddy is gone. Basically anytime she has to only she momma for a day or two.
Hobbies: Finding pennies on the floor. Eating computer charger cords.
We’re having a great time with Ella. She’s a delightful baby. I can’t imagine my life without her. No way. No How.
Two months til one. Crazy how time goes so fast.
Yes you teething. I’m talking to you. You are an asshole.
lady who feels like hell because she hasn’t slept in a hundred thousand days.
OK seriously. SERIOUSLY. I feel bad for my little sweet baby girl because she hurts. I know she hurts. But FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I need some sleep. Like immediately. Like three weeks ago. Bad.
See we went from not sleeping well at home to not sleeping well in Arizona to being sick from going to Arizona to teething and thus not sleeping well at home again and here we are. One of us is sleep deprived and the other one isn’t.
Can you tell which is which?
No? Oh good. Then the faking it is working.The faking and the lip gloss. And the huge necklace detracting attention from my wrinkles and bags.
And to be frank I’m not even sure it’s teething that’s keeping her awake. I mean last night I put her to bed (after like a sad sad excuse for an afternoon nap) at 8 pm. And at 8:15. Up. Back down. Back up. Down. Up. Down. Up. I need an elevator on my stairs. Finally I gave up and put her in the bed with me. I think it was 10 pm. Cause we go to bed with the kids now. :-/ I could go to sleep at 7 but for the sake of sitting with my husband alone I don’t. I just fall asleep on the couch instead. I can’t imagine what he must think. Anyway to bed we went, with the baby, and my sweet husband said to me, “Are you going to be able to sleep with her attached to you (because yeah. That.)?” And I said, “Yeah. I could sleep through a tornado right now.” Furreals. And I don’t want to be petty but this whole thing is kinda interfering with, ahem, YOU KNOW. Adult time.
Anyway, I’m not sure it’s as much the teething as it is that she just wants to be attached to me. Like constantly. Maybe she is in pain or maybe she just wants her momma. Whatever it is, sleeping (or not sleeping) in one position with a human being on you waking up you every 15 minutes is taking it’s toll on my decrepit body. Or it’s making me decrepit. One of those.
I can’t recall being this tired in a long long long time. Maybe it’s because I’m old. Or MAYBE it’s because there is a baby on me ALL NIGHT LONG. And I love her. Good lord how I love this child. But man. MAN. Did I mention I was tired?
I keep reminding myself, “SELF this phase only lasts a short time in the grand scheme of things. And soon you’ll wish she was snuggled with you in your bed.” And it is and I know this because I have three other children and they are 15, almost 13 and 11 and none of them breastfeed all night anymore. I’m pretty sure. Though to be fair, I wouldn’t know if they were. Cause I’m that tired.
In the meantime I’m holding my baby close and holding out hope for the day I will sleep again. I think I will.
Oh wait. It’s Wednesday. My bad.
Last weeks Tuesday was brought to you from a luxurious resort in Scottsdale. This Tuesday… uh I mean Wednesday? From the sofa.
Let’s recap the week. Last week found us enjoying the sights and thrifty shopping adventures of Arizona. It was lovely.
I should have known things were only going to go downhill from there. I mean this is not a baby that just FALLS asleep on a bed unprovoked. Even if it is an ultra awesome down comforted resort bed. The rest of that day was spent celebrating (er, shopping) with my sister for her 23rd birthday celebration (which was Saturday). Then we were on the plane to come home:
Ella enjoyed the plane ride and wasn’t at all fussy. Clue #2.
The three episodes of unusual poop should have tipped me off. Clue #3. I blamed the travel. We arrived home late Thursday. Tired but in one piece. Mostly.
Then came the vomiting. And more pooping. More vomiting. I was up and down most of the night. Mostly up. Friday 8:30 am I was calling the Big Kids to pick them up from their dads (they had just returned from a ski trip with grandparents). By 8:30 more vomiting. And the lethargy. She couldn’t even hold her head up. I was genuinely concerned and shortly thereafter we were making an appointment to see our pediatrician. We haven’t seen him since Ella was literally 18 hours old. (That’s another story.) In any case by the time we reached his office things were looking up. Ella was able to nurse and keep it down. The diagnosis: Something viral. Awesome. We stayed there for a while just to be sure and then came home. I breathed a sigh of relief. The Man picked up the Big Kids. And our day proceeded on.
I was tired. Like really tired.
Later Friday there was more pooping. And Friday night more pooping. There was luggage and clothing all over the place that had to be put away.
I was tired. Like really really tired.
Did I mention I was tired?
Why am I so tired?
Saturday night more pooping. More. Pooping. Less. Sleeping. I just cannot sleep when kids are sick.
Sunday looked better. Kind of. Oh yeah and it was Easter. Oops. Thanks to Staci’s mom for getting me stuff at Costco to throw together some kind of Easter meal that wasn’t pizza. (I should have just gotten pizza.) Ella seemed to be herself and we had a kind of pathetic Easter celebration. There were no fancy dresses. No baskets. No egg hunts. No photo ops. We gave the big kids itunes gift cards purely because we didn’t want to support the tiny plastic crappy Chinese toy industry.
I’m a lousy mother. I was purely in functional mode. Cooking. And trying not to fall asleep standing up. I didn’t even get the camera OUT.
Except for this:
And this (it’s pie):
And this (it’s beer):
And this… The Big Kids teaching Ella to play blackjack.
Sunday night the Big Kids laundry was all done and the vomit was mostly cleaned up and they went back to their dad’s for a couple of days. Sunday night, more pooping. And then more vomiting. What. The. Hell. I gave up and sat on the sofa. All. Night. Long. Every time I’d put her down she would cry in pain. So I didn’t put her down. Instead I watched Brothers & Sisters on netflix (not a bad show, even when cradling an ill infant). At 5:45 I made the handoff to daddy (who had been taking her every morning because I refuse to wake him up at night). Slept 2 and a half hours. Got up.
She looked like this:
I looked like I’d been hit by a truck. Not a small truck either.
And on that note…
Here’s some things:
1. I CANNOT tolerate sleep deprivation like I used to. I just can’t. I’m either too old. Or I’m too old. I used to go 24 to 36 or more hours without a wink of sleep. Now one night and I feel like death. What happened? Oh yeah. I’m old.
2. I am a RN. I have been doused in every body fluid imaginable. Blood? Amniotic fluid? Bring it on. But I. hate. vomit. Not the vomit itself just the act of vomiting and seeing people vomit. Case in point, I myself have not vomiting since I was 5. No shit. (OK I dry heaved when I had my wisdom teeth out. But it took 4 vicodin on an empty stomach to make that happen). I don’t like it.
3. The way that I have learned to cope with vomiting (or sick in general) children is to get up and pretend it’s day time. That’s how I cope. It’s a control thing. This means a couple of things: 1. I’m not awakened abruptly by anyone vomiting on me. Which is nice. 2. I don’t sleep. At all. and 3. My Big Kids actually didn’t mind being sick in the night too much cause it meant they got to watch whatever they wanted on TV while mom set about disinfecting every imaginable surface.
Anyway. Ella is better now.
I still feel a little like I’m spinning in the middle of my own personal tornado.
Thanks for listening.