December 7, 2012
I do the bare minimum around here. Sometimes I think I can do more, but then the more laughs in my face and knocks the breath out of me. And that’s the part where I cry, because, can you say hormones? Ahhh!! The hormones! They race around in my veins and one minute I think I can bake christmas cookies and do a homemade nativity craft for Berlyn and Hudson, and the next minute I’m taking a 45 minute shower and telling everyone to BACK OFF and FIGURE IT OUT, because mommy needs a break from you.
Berlyn has a fever today.
She’s not at school, which means she’s home with me. Which means that I have all three children under one roof ALL DAY. Which means that if they need mommy today, chances are I’ll probably be in the shower. Not only that, but now I’m mortified about Silas getting sick, so I’m wandering around my house wearing a surgical mask while spraying everything in a thick coat of Lysol and demanding that the children wash their hands every 13 minutes.
It’s super fun, wanna come over?
We recently discovered that Silas is a little different than his brother and sister in that he’s considered a “high-needs baby.” Which is the polite term for saying that he likes to cry. A lot. Berlyn and Hudson were dream babies. Always content in whatever baby apparatus I’d stick them in. They would sleep when they were supposed to sleep, and eat when they were supposed to eat, and in general be pretty awesome. Silas, although awesome, does not enjoy the same peaceful existence that his siblings once did. Which means he’s attached to me all day long. Fine if I never had to poop, or never had the desire to anything without a tiny baby, but it just makes everything a bit harder.
Well, it’s actually kind of sweet that he always wants to be near me. We went through a pretty traumatic experience together and he finds comfort in me. So I feel conflicted complaining about it. A break every once in a while might be nice, that’s all I’m saying.
I just looked over old blog posts of when Hudson was this small, and believe it or not he was the same exact way. Funny how you forget all these things:
How much boob does one tiny baby need?
Every hour just seems ridiculous.
And do you see what it’s making me do?
It’s making me loose my mind. And Dr. Sears doesn’t have a chapter on that, I know. I’ve checked.
But I know what Dr. Sears would say, he’d say if your child wants to eat every hour, feed him every hour.
But every hour at night?
Dr. Sears, do you have any idea what this is doing to my brain?”
UGH, so his ears smell like baby stomach acid.
I thought newborns were supposed to smell like Cabbage Patch Dolls.
Mine smells like a shart and barf.”