On the floor naked and screaming is a thing of the past

So the last two days Alex has been testing the patience of the lovely people at daycare. He has been, in their words, "pretty fussy." Based on the wild boar-like screaming on display when I walk in the door to pick him up, "pretty fussy" is pretty euphemistic. Both Tuesday and Wednesday when I picked him up he was crying. For no reason whatsoever. Yesterday, one of the teachers was sitting in a rocking chair with him in her arms rocking him and listening to soothing music. What was he doing? Screaming like an insane monkey off its meds. That was pretty close to the same scene on Tuesday when I picked him up, except Tuesday she was pacing/bouncing with him. After those two pick-ups, I was more than a little afraid they would give him to me and change the locks immediately after we walked out the door.

So this morning I got there to drop him off and talked with the teacher telling her some things I try when he is being an inconsolable jerk store. She listened, asked some questions, gave her input, and let me know what she tries with him throughout the day. (We are thinking this is mostly some gas issues coming back, but we shall see.) The following is how the conversation wrapped up:

Me: Well he slept really well last night so hopefully that will help today.
Teacher: Oh good! I am really happy he is sleeping well for you. ***And there was honestly no sarcasm in her voice. She was genuinely happy about that.
Me: I just feel bad for you having to deal with it all day. ***Read: Please don't ask me to never bring this beast child back to your lovely daycare.
Teacher: Oh we are fine. We get to take breaks and we swap duties. I just don't want you to worry about him during the day. I mean, I know you don't know us from a hill of beans, but we just love him and we'll get this figured out.

I quite literally had to stop myself from hugging that woman and never letting go. I cannot explain how good it feels to leave him with people that care about him and are willing to go through the tough times because they know there is a crooked little smile in there somewhere. So, instead of inappropriately showering this woman with unwanted physical displays of affection, I told her how happy I am with the care they provide for my son. I think she understands, but if leg humping would help drive my point home, I am not above it.

Fork it over.

I was under the impression that once my little munchkin was done cooking he would relinquish his vice-like hold on my brain. Apparently that is not the case.

Last week I went to Target to get 5 things. One of which was dish soap. I was going home immediately after Target to wash bottles because we did not have any clean bottles as we were out of dish soap. I got the other four things and proceeded to wander around Target asking Alex what I was forgetting. Yes, asking the baby that can't talk what I was forgetting when I was forgetting soap to wash the bottles for the baby that I was asking. Nothin'. Went home without dish soap and it didn't hit me until I had the sink filling with water and went to add the soap. Nice.

Yesterday, my boss was super awesome and took my coworker and me out on his boat for the afternoon. The instructions were, "Get your stuff done and meet me at the boat." Sweet! Until we were coming back to the dock and he casually asks me where I put his paycheck, because oh yeah, one of the things I was supposed to do yesterday before he was generous enough to take us out boating was PAYROLL. Nothing important though. Nice.

Then today I am driving to work and listening to Bob & Tom. They are talking about Chinese food. And I start thinking how good Chinese food sounds for lunch. But then I remind myself I brought my lunch and I do not allow myself to spend money on lunch when I have brought one with me from home. Bummer right? Until lunch time rolls around and I remember what I packed...Cashew Chicken. I have to admit, this one was bitter sweet...I got my Chinese food. Itch - Scratched.

Basically it's like this kid forgot to leave my brain behind when he vacated the premises. I am going to have to go back and review his lease because I am pretty sure that falls under the whole idea of leaving the premises in the same state they were when you arrived. He may lose his entire security deposit for this one.

Back to Sleep

Back To Sleep. That is the mantra that is drilled into your head when you have a newborn. It has nothing to do with you getting any sleep so that parts sucks. Basically the medical world now believes that having babies sleep on their backs cuts down on the chance of SIDS. And anything that can lower the chances of that...done and done.

I always had a question though. What happens if they barf while on their back? I am not saying I drank a lot in college, but I do distinctly remember making sure a friend or two didn't fall asleep on their back after a night out. Choking hazard. So what if that would happen to a tiny baby that has no control over their body? Wouldn't they choke?

My question was answered this morning. Let's backtrack for a minute though. A while back, I had fed Alex, changed his diaper and left him laying on the contoured changing pad in his crib while I threw away the nastiness his butt had created. I was out of the room for .2 seconds. When I came back in, he was laying there with his mouth full of regurgitated formula. I immediately picked him so everything was quickly expelled from his mouth. I also cried a bit with him because we were both pretty freaked out. What if I hadn't come back so fast?

Fast forward to this morning. After his 4:30 AM feast, I changed his diaper, wrapped him into a burrito and put him back in his crib. He was doing his normal wiggling and grunting. I kinda fell asleep. I come out of an awesome dream about water skiing to hear a weird gurgling, then some coughing. As I bolted up and ran to his crib he started crying. There was formula barf e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e. All over his face, coming out of his mouth and nose. All over the crib sheet. All over the blanket he was wrapped in. So apparently when babies barf while laying on their back, they manage to get it out. Question answered. A very messy answer.

Oh my cute.

We have a new development that has caused other developments. The starting domino that makes the rest of them fall is this: he can smile...In response to people smiling at him, making faces at him, talking to him. It is the cutest, gummiest, crooked little thing I have ever seen. And he does it A LOT.

This has caused a few things. First, it has turned me into a complete weirdo. I am trying anything I can think of to make this kid smile. I would like to say that I am doing all things goofy because he is obviously happy when he smiles. I would like to say that, but I would be lying. It is totally selfish. It makes me so happy to see him smile. It proves that he actually likes me and kinda thinks I'm funny. Or at least mildly entertaining. 'Cause that's what I should be worried about...my ego. I am an awesome mom. Most people would be happy that their kid is developing mentally. Not me... He finds me amusing?!?! Sweet!

The second thing all these baby smiles have caused is becoming a problem. I am having a really hard time dropping him off at day care in the morning. And I sit at my desk counting down the hours 'til I get to go pick him up. Not exactly the productive worker bee I am supposed to be. I can't help it. He is just so damn cute. He's even smiling in the middle of the night when he wakes up. Talk about having mixed emotions. I am so freaking tired I could cry, and then there he is...beaming at me. And all I want to do is sit up with him and extract all the smiles I can get. It's like I'm an addict. Just one more Alex...just one more to get me through to the morning. Fortunately for my addiction, he is a very generous dealer.

I am excited for all the things he is going to be learning soon. It is waaaay better now that he isn't just a little alien larva staring blankly at me. The funny thing is, as excited as I am for him to learn and interact more, I find myself a little bit sad with every outfit he outgrows. Wouldn't it be nice if I could stick with just one emotion for more than a millisecond? Eh..whatever, what fun would that be?

Motivation

I am still on a quest to get into a regular workout schedule. I don't know why I have this delusion that anything in my life can be "regular" anymore, but just play along...let's keep my hopes and dreams alive just a bit longer before smashing them to the floor and watching the shattered pieces scatter. Too dramatic?

Anyway, working out. It is very difficult to fit this activity into this new baby-filled schedule we now have. It could be argued that I manage to fit in dinners and dunk tank parties with friends so how can I claim I don't have time for working out. That could be argued. But the person presenting that point best be armed with some fantastic protective gear. Because I may severely maim anyone speaking such foolish things. I should give up those things for working out? I'm all about being fit, but come on. There are just some things people should not be forced to go on without. Dunk tank parties are definitely one of them.

Have I mentioned we had a dunk tank party? A party that revolved around a dunk tank in our back yard. We did. It kicked ass.

So Sunday morning, we all decide to go to breakfast at one of our favorite places, The Beachhouse. They are known for their Walleye and Eggs. De-freaking-licious. I rode with Kari, Brent and Trevor. I sat in the back with Trevor. We were playing with some action figure thingy he has. And by playing I mean that he wanted me to attach this dude's sword to his hand. No such luck. I need to work on my action figure skills. So about 2/3's of the way there, Trevor looks over at me and says, "Your belly is still really big. Are you going to have another baby?" I answer that no, I in fact am not having another baby...just still fat from the last one. He proceeds to say, "Yay! Another baby! Another baby!" The rest of the way to breakfast. Nothing like having your ego shot for the day by a 5 year old.

Ahh bonding

How does a child that only knows the taste of formula know exactly when it is time for others to eat delicious food creations? He can't possibly know what he is interrupting. It doesn't seem to matter if he has just eaten, just fallen asleep, just been changed. Without fail, at some point during dinner he looks around and goes, "Yup. I am not happy right now. I will only be happy if I am held by someone trying to eat with one hand. Yes, yes that will make me happy." Maybe he just wants to be part of dinner. It must already be important to him that we eat as a family. He knows that dinner time is when some real bonding and quality time happens.

The other bonding time he seems to find extremely important is the 2am feeding time. Lucky for me, that is the time I get to feed him. We take turns getting up to feed him during sleeping hours, and since Trav gets up so ungodly early for work, he usually takes care of the later feeding at about 5 or 6am. So I get the one smack in the middle of the night. Which is fine. Or I should say would be fine if this kid would go back to sleep after he eats. He will be on the verge of sleeping the entire time he is eating. And then when I swaddle him up and lay him down...BOING! His eyes are wide open. I let him lay there for a while wiggling around making small little piggy grunts. And most times he falls asleep. Eventually. But other times, he takes after the dog. She is not ok with me sleeping if she is awake, why should he be ok with it? He will lay there being cute for a while, but soon he will get bored by himself and cry. I realize at some point I am going to have to let him cry it out and not get up and get him, but that little exercise is going to have to wait until he is not upstairs with us. That and he is still so tiny. And really good at making a sad baby face.

Back in the saddle

I am trying to get back into a workout schedule. It is not an easy task. Now that I am back to work, there seems to be almost no time in any day to get things done. Not to mention since I can't take naps during the day anymore, but am still getting up at night to feed the beast, my energy level is running at wicked low levels. However, my gut is protruding at wicked high levels so it is time to suck it up.

A feeble attempt was made last week...two workouts. Better than no workouts, but two ain't gonna cut it. So I am trying harder this week. I took the dog running last night. Well, run/walking, but there was definitely more running than walking so it totally counts. I am hoping to get to an every other day schedule. I would like to think I am ambitious enough to have an every day schedule, but I know that won't happen and then I will be more tempted to just quit all together. 'Cause that logic totally makes sense. Anywho, my legs feel like they are slowly getting to the consistency of concrete...and not in a totally ripped muscle-y kind of way. More in a I can't move my muscles kind of way. No pain no gain baby.

Now if I could just figure out how to get paid without having to be at the office all day I would be set. Lottery anyone?