Saturday, October 23, 2010

I miss crib bumpers!

Bubby woke up crying at 4:30 am this morning. I could already tell it was legitimate and not one of those "I woke up in the middle of the night and don't know what to do with myself" cries. I got into his room and his chubby little leg is hanging outside the crib, almost wrapped around the corner of the crib.

My heart broke for the little guy. As cute as it was (and it was really cute), the look of shear confusion on his face was just terrible. I got his leg free and picked him up to rock him and calm him down. Within just a few minutes (if that) he was calm and falling back asleep in my arms. I wanted to make sure he'd go back to sleep because he had at least two good more hours of sleep in him. So we rocked for about 5 min of him being asleep to insure he was asleep and I could go back to bed.

Well that's what I thought. But his little eyes shot open about an inch from the crib. And judging by the look on his face, I must have just bought him a puppy, told him about the puppy, told him that with the puppy came and endless supply of candy, then slapped him across the face and killed the puppy with my bare hands.

HOLY CRAP was he mad! It was shrill screaming terror. Want to see a haunted house? For a reasonable price, let me wake up my son in the middle of the night and you hang out to see the nightmare that ensues!

I tried patting him, singing to him, reassuring him from a far that he was okay and needed to go back to sleep. He didn't care much for that. So I went ahead and made him a bottle (I know you aren't supposed to but frankly, I don't care), he didn't want it. And you know he's mad if he's turning down a bottle.

So the only option was to cry it out. And boy did he ever.

One day when he reads these posts about himself, I feel like he will be laughing a lot. It is times like these when I shake my head and go, "Oh my gosh, you act just like your daddy!" His daddy is so head strong and when he gets stuck on an idea, its going to happen come hell or high water!

At least I can laugh about it. It is easily one of the hardest things ever to have to listen to your child cry and intentionally do nothing about it. There are those that disagree with this tactic, and that's fine. Everybody has to do what they feel is best for their child and it changes with every person what they feel that is. But regardless, choosing to do what is best for your child versus giving them what they want is just that... a conscious choice.... every day... and man is it hard!

Its now 5:00 am... Bubby has stopped crying for about 5 minutes... now Momma contemplates how to get back in the room to get the bottle out of the crib... Oh. Snap.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Lots of Thoughts

This post is going to be RANDOM... you've been warned.

I love Southwest Airlines. It caters to my OCD. You see, if I check in early (which I always do) you get a better seat. Simple as that. And everyone who flies Southwest generally knows this. So as I like the aisle seat, I get to pick one. Normally that means one that no one is in the window or middle seat in. Every once in a while that means I have someone in the window seat but rarely does it mean someone is in the middle seat. And my anti-socialism rejoices.

Last weekend, my son and I were supposed to be  baptized. Instead, Justin took care of Sam, my grandma and dad and stepmom turned around halfway to Little Rock to go home, and I found a walk-in clinic to go to. I was in between a dose of antibiotics and mid round developed an allergy. Sunday morning greets me with hives from literally the top of my head (in my hair, on my face) to the bottom of my feet (seriously, in between my toes). I find myself thankful now that a few came up the night before and I mistook them for bites because I took Benadryl before bed. I am convinced this is why I didn't have an asthma attack in the middle of the night. I'm almost all good now though. And the devil is just going to have to find a new victim... we are getting baptized. Deal with it.

Speaking of the devil, most of you know this but last November my mother was diagnosed with chronic myleoid leukemia. What does that mean? It sucks, but it doesn't suck as bad as it could. Her father died of leukemia. I think that was where the devil got his idea. Mom took it very hard when her dad died and its always been a fear that one of us would be stricken by it. This leukemia is not the same. This one attacks the blood because of a mutated gene. BUT, there is a magical pill now that you can take and it basically keeps the disease at bay... so long as you take the pill. Mom is on the pill and her blood work continues to be good. So its almost like she doesn't even have the C word... except she does. Its really weird.

Where am I going with this? Here. The devil is showing his stupid little butt. My mother is a very strong lady. And while, yes, leukemia is a curse word in our family, it is still just a word. It is just a thing to overcome. And you'd think Mr. Devilman would get that. I got to thinking about Mom's situation the other day while waiting on said Southwest flight (see how I tie everything together?) and it just sucks. Every month she has to go get her blood drawn. And every month she has to wonder, "Will it come back this time?" Every year she has to endure a bone marrow biopsy... just to be safe.

Piss on you devil. That's what I say. I understand the pecking order... you need to bring people down and build your evil little army... whatever... but it has been written good sir. You will be defeated. And even if it wasn't already written... why her? She's a strong woman. She is going to beat this. You will not win. You would think you would pick someone weak and vulnerable and not stupid enough to fall into your spineless tactics.

Did my grandpa die of leukemia? Yes. Did the devil win that battle? Absolutely not. My grandpa died in the arms of Jesus. My grandpa died knowing exactly where he would be the next second. And he left that with all of us.

So to bring this full circle (I think), we are getting baptized Sunday. We are. I can wake up with hives, puking, a third arm growing out of my head... whatever. But this too will pass and I will be baptized. I'm so not kidding here. My child will grow up in the house of the Lord. We will be a Jesus filled family. And this declaration will happen if I have to kidnap a preacher, steal a rickety old van, and throw all of us in a creek to make it happen. Back off devil man... it's happening.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Update on the Bubby

What am I super proud about today? My little boy ate 3 puffies last night and didn't gag! Then for dinner, I mixed some of a stage 3 dinner with a stage 2 and he ate it all without gagging!

This is such a big deal for him. At his last appt., I told the doctor about his gagging problem and the doctor said that if he doesn't make some major progress by his 1 year appt then he would have to do a swallowing study.

Momma is not okay with that. Of course I'd do what is best for my child, but I cannot imagine any part of a swallowing study would be fun for either of us. So we are working HARD on getting that gag reflex turned down. And he's doing so well!

Other updates: No he isn't crawling yet and no I'm not concerned. (Can you tell I'm tired of answering that question?)

The fact of the matter is, crawling isn't a milestone no matter how much people want to make it one. Some kids crawl, some don't. At his last appt, he was off the charts for weight and head circumference, and 75th percentile for height. He is BIG! That's a lot of body to be coordinating into a crawl (plus he is top heavy with that big ole' noggin).

He is, however, darn near turning flips midair he is rolling so well (insert fat joke here). He also uses his arms to position himself anywhere so he can roll and get there. And I noticed just this morning that he is starting to pull himself forward and push himself backwards with his arms a little bit.

He is still a jumper. Always has been I guess. Now when he's in his excersaucer it looks like he's jumping on a trampoline almost. He gets some air time.

He is also jabbering up a storm. He can say "Dada" although he has no idea who "Dada" is. He'll only make the "ma" sound every once in a while. Other than that, he squeals, and laughs, and grins, and talks his special little language to anything and everything that will listen.

Other tricks he does (I'm talking about him like he's a dog): He gives high fives (as long as you give applause) and he also can give sugar on demand (although I'm the only one he's done that for).

That's all the updates I have for now!  He is the best thing that has ever happened to me and I couldn't imagine life without him! (Its hard to remember life without him!)