Getting Older

On Wednesday night Claire had the realization that Alex is going to be 30 one day. Well, not really a realization I suppose as much as the thought popped into her mind. And then blew her mind. It is weird to think about, but I am kind of excited for when he is an adult and what our relationship will be like then and what kind of person he will have become. The thing that bothers me about him getting older is that soon he will be going to school and meeting new kids and having his feelings hurt and being scared and having a girlfriend I am going to have to pretend to like. Now that is some scary shit.



Any current problems he has are relatively easy to fix. Maybe not easy in the exact moment of the giant temper tantrum because I dared to close the door when he wanted it open, but easier than the social issues yet to come. How do you fix things you can't control? How do I fix it when the kids at school don't want to play with him? Or how do I fix it when he is scared and I am not there to tell him everything will be OK? Or when he thinks I have no idea what is what in the world because I am just an old mom? These are things I don't want to happen.



Can't we just freeze him at this age? First, let's teach him how to talk coherently and then freeze him. I feel if he could express himself with words instead of just an outstretched arm showing the general direction of his preference, things would be a lot less frustrating for all parties involved. But other than that...no more getting older.



This also made me realize this has to be a reason must be why people want more than one kid. Once the innocence and simplicity go away, things get scary. Relax. I am nowhere even in the same universe as thinking another child is close to a good idea. But I get it. I get the wanting to prolong the not scary issues. So, freezing him at present age it is.

I had a whole post about Alex getting older and how it's gonna suck and blah blah blah. My computer is being a jerk. It ate it. Damn it.

Addictions

There are a few things in my life that I guess I am addicted to...although I am sure I could stop if I had to, but it would make me sad. Diet Coke is one of these things. I love it. I do my best to limit myself to one a day, but that is super hard. It is delicious.

I have found a new one: lumosity.com

Go. Go now. Don't ask questions. It is fantastic. And supposedly good for your brain too!

Nighty Night

I'm gonna blame it on the teeth ripping their way through his gums...well because I seem to blame everything on his teeth. Cranky? Teething. Fever? Teething. Pooping on the floor? Tee...wait...Dumb mom.

Anyway, the last two nights have not been good on the sleeping front for the little monster, and the only explanation I can come with is that his teeth are bothering him. Sunday night was rough. He woke up at midnight-ish, but was fairly easily soothed. Then 2:30 came around. Awake, crying, not easily soothed. I gave him ibuprofen and sat rocking and stood rocking with him for an hour before he finally fell asleep. And then slept until 6:15. At which point I told Travis I couldn't do it. I was really hoping for 6:30 and the thought of missing out on those extra 15 minutes was pushing me to my brink. I got my extra 15.

Last night wasn't nearly as bad. He slept until 5:30. But it was obvious he wasn't ready to be awake and that he was just uncomfortable, so to the couch we went until about 7 when I realized I only had approximately 20 minutes to get us both ready and out the door. Thank goodness for nighttime showers.

We shall see what tonight has in store for us. Aside from wanting to sleep, I am anxious to see if the new overnight diapers can hold the insane amount of pee this kid produces while he sleeps. Regular diapers are no match for his bladder. They are wimpy like 1-ply toilet paper when battling the immensity of Sleep Pee. Which results in a disgustingly soaked diaper and disgustingly soaked pj's and sheets and a smelly baby. I don't have that many pairs of pj's for him and only a couple sheets...and let's be honest here, there is no way I am doing laundry every day. So, please please please work overnight diapers. I beg you...and so does my little pee smellin' baby.

After Bath Adventures

Lately when Alex is done with a bath it is a race to get him dried off before he is off and running around the house. The kid loves running around naked. And I am not joking about the running part. He can run now. And he likes it.

Anyway, back to the matter at hand. When I pick him up out of the tub and stand him up on the floor mat the wrestling match begins. In my corner is me and a towel. In his corner is him and the advantage of slippery wet baby skin. So far I have won every match, but by the time I get him dry, I no longer have enough fight left in me to attempt to put a diaper on him, much less any clothes. So off he goes.

So far, this has not been a problem. He runs around for a while, laughing like an insane convict that just escaped from jail, and eventually I grab him and get him diapered and into some pajamas. Tonight was a different story.

The bath went great, he splashed around...even dunked his head under the running faucet a couple times. Then the time was upon us. He wanted out. As I pulled him out of the tub, I could swear you could hear the ding of the bell announcing this evening's bout. He wanted to run. So I dried him off as quickly as I could and sent him on his screeching way. He ran around a bit and then came back to the bathroom where I was cleaning up. He played his little game of shutting the door on me, having me knock and then open it up to say hello. But about the third time through, he didn't shut the door. He just stood there hanging on to it. And he got that look. That far away look that every parent immediately recognizes. I froze...And all I could do was ask, "Are you pooping?" The stare remained. So I asked again. Yes, I asked a 14 month old that can only say about 3 & 1/2 words...twice. And then before I could get myself unfrozen, there it was. The biggest poo I think he has ever expelled. Right there on the floor. And then he laughed and started to run away. Which is when I got to see the second poo hangin' out and on its way to the floor.

I will be checking my mail for my Mother of the Year Award starting tomorrow.

I was right! Probably!

The thinking it was teeth that were causing Alex's fever just may have been correct! As previously stated, I thought he had caught a bug. But I just got a message that he has two, count 'em 2!, molars trying to bust through on the top. Having teeth move around in your head is hard work people. It apparently not only can make you a zillion degrees, but it can also make you puke. Awesome.

PS-Kari mentioned that on Tuesday too. Maybe I should go back to listening to what she says instead of going with my overactive imagination. Perhaps.

Eeeasy there freak mom

In the midst of a zillion temperature readings yesterday one came up as 102.4. Which to me is pretty warm for a tiny little man. So naturally I immediately called Alex's doctor. Or more correctly, his doctor's nurse's desk.

Now I have to admit, before I called, I asked Kari what she thought. And she said, "Well, what is the doctor going to tell you?...Give him some ibuprofen. So give him some ibuprofen." And if I wasn't such a freak, I would have listened to her. But I am a freak, so I didn't. Wanna guess what the nurse told me? Yep. Give him some ibuprofen.

I finally came to a realization after I talked to her...and she kinda giggle when we spoke. The realization is simple. Kids get sick. Kids get fevers. Kids throw up. It made me think back to when I was kid and how many times I got sick and how many times my parents didn't have to call the doctor. Maybe it was because I am the third kid, or maybe it was because a sick kid isn't always a dramatic situation. Either way, it is what it is. It sucks, it's messy and you do whatever you can to make your kid comfortable while he rides out the storm.