sick little baby

Today I learned that there is nothing more terrifying than the sick child waiting room at the pediatrician. Lots of snot, raspy coughs, whiny noises and germs floating through the air. If you weren't sick when you walked in that place, you surely were when you left.

Usually we get to sit on the well child side, but after battling a fever that finally spiked at 104 we found ourselves among the sickies. My poor little guy is the sickest I have seen him - barely opening his eyes, constant moaning, a cough followed by scrunched up pain face. One snot test later, the doctor confirmed he has Influenza A. Three weeks shy of the flu shot booster. Sweet luck.

When she was explaining to me how he's high risk for developing complications like ear infections or pneumonia, I cried. In my head I was already in a room at Children's Mercy and Henry had IVs in his arms. That's just the kind of crazy I am.

We left with a prescription for Tamiflu which took two pharmacies to find and a $90 co-pay - news the pharmacist was dreading telling me after seeing my tired, tear-stained face holding a whimpering little baby.

Daddy is at a work convention in Vegas and Grandma should be arriving any minute. We've all had our flu shots. If we don't get sick, consider this a walking testament to JUST GET YOUR FLU SHOT, PEOPLE.

ironic night

This weekend we stayed in a hotel- five miles from our house.

The in-laws had planned a visit but had to cancel unexpectedly and had a non-refundable deal. So we took a vacation from the clutter and pets and capitalized on free breakfast and happy hour. Plus hotels don't use an antenna to get four real channels. They have cable! And the Food Network!

I fell asleep at 10 p.m. fully clothed only to be awakened at midnight by the couple next to us having...er...LOUD relations. Ick.

At 4 a.m., Henry woke up SCREAMING at the top of his lungs and continued for a good 15 minutes.

That, my friends, is a heavy dose of payback. And birth control.

six months

 Dear Henry,

Happy half birthday! You are the happiest boy I know.You looooove cuddling and have started reaching out for whoever you prefer. You stroke my cheek and pull my hair for comfort. You talk loudly to the pets and love grabbing their fur. Your grumpy cat, Pica, actually tolerates you the most. She might even like you.Your dog Mac is the source of much curiosity.

 

You're a little guy though seem so big to mama and daddy. You weigh in at 15.1 pounds and 25 inches long - 10th percentile. You can wear three month pants but starting to wear the six month outfits. Your newborn pre-folds are getting more difficult to wrap around your growing waist and chunky thighs.

It's been such a fun month but hard sometimes, too. You have two teeth (on the bottom) now which didn't come in without fussy pain. Sometimes we think we've got you all figured out and then you scream in the middle of the night for what seems like no reason at all. You always send up in the cry room at church during sermon time but always end up smiling at total strangers and friends alike.

You are starting to get the hang of daycare and smile when you see Miss Mindy. Sometimes you come home with cute stickers on your back. You'll be crawling around with the others in no time. You also have showing fear, mainly for loud noises like the coffee grinder or blender that never bothered you before.

We've been busy with class and work but you take it all in stride. We love you so much little man!

Mama

liquefying

This weekend was dominated by teething and the crying, diaper rash and wet chin mess that goes with it. Poor kid.

In preparation for the great solid food experimentation, I attempted to make baby food which really means making human food and blasting it into liquid form. I used this site for inspiration.

Sweet potatoes: Bake for an hour until skins easily peel off. Mash in bowl. Puree in blender. I could have probably skipped the blender part but I was on a roll.

Pears: Peel and core. Boil for five minutes. Liquefy in blender. I am not usually a huge pear fan but this was delicious!

Carrots: Steamed with rice cooker sans rice. Puree in blender.

I froze everything in ice cube trays and then moved the blocks into freezer bags to store. I am awaiting my Oxo trays to arrive before I make more. Frozen peaches, peas and bananas up next.

We tried a teeny bit a applesauce this weekend. I am not sure if the applesauce was a hit or if it was the cold metal spoon but either way, he wanted more.

More reading: Interesting article from my pediatrician's office on myths of starting solids.

mom guilt

Dear Henry,

I'm sorry that you are getting formula a couple of times a week when I was too busy or too dehydrated to pump enough milk for you the day before. I'm sorry for my attitude about pumping some days. When I want to throw it out the window and give up in a exhausted, annoyed huff.

I'm sorry that I routinely forget to put Vitamin D drops into your bottles as instructed. I'm sorry that sometimes your snot really needs to be sucked but I don't do it because I hate when you cry. I'm sorry that sometimes we've gone a week and a half without a bath.

I'm sorry that although you have some super cute clothes I usually put you in sweatpants and a long-sleeved onesie. I'm sorry that I don't always wash your new clothes before I put them against your precious baby skin.

I'm sorry that you lay on a blanket on our wood floors that are only vacuumed once a week at best and washed once every two months. I'm sorry that we often use your nursery for the land of unfolded laundry. I'm sorry I never gave you the skills to sleep in your own crib. And for the chaotic transition that is sure to come.

I'm sorry that I am drinking coffee to stay awake despite the fact it also goes directly into your little body.

I'm sorry I send you to daycare where I can't protect you from another kid throwing something at your head. Or you getting a sniffly, feverish cold. I'm sorry that even though we can afford for me to stay home, we've chosen debt payoff and graduate degrees instead.

And just so I am covered, I'm sorry that you can't be a soldier, professional football player, construction worker, high-rise window washer, police officer, fire fighter, truck driver, power line repair man, coal miner or pilot.

You might have a caffeine-wired brain that is not always covered with a warm hat, but you're certainly loved to pieces!

Mama