Thursday. It has been a loud day. Every time I called my husband I could hear joyful screaming in the background, coming from the baby so loud I could barely talk to his dad. I went straight home after work to give my husband a break.
By the time I got there they were both fresh from a nap, so that was great. Everyone is in a better mood after napping. I took over baby duties so my husband could catch his breath, and we talked a little about bills and our upcoming move, storage units, and car repairs that need to be done. Life is sometimes so exciting!
Ruckus and I played on the floor for a while while my husband went to visit his brother, and we had a good time. The baby's toys are loud and obnoxious some days, and other days they are fun to play with. I discovered that one in particular speeds up the song if you hit it enough times in quick succession so I had the polka tunes going warp speed, just to mix things up. The songs play on a loop in my head these days so any change is a good one.
I read him a couple of his books, the hard cardboard ones that say they are for 1 year and older. I suppose that is because cardboard disintegrates when subjected to enough baby spit, and young babies are prone to mouthing everything. The stories themselves don't have much to offer. One is about a turtle who stops and stares at things and takes all day to walk to his own birthday party. The other guests didn't seem too upset by his lateness when he finally arrived. The second is about an elephant who's nose is stuffed up, and a flamingo who plucks a feather to make him sneeze. The end. Luckily my son's attention span is shorter than the books so he wasn't disappointed.
Dinner time rolled around so I heated him up some pureed chicken with gravy, and mixed up his rice cereal. He ate like a trooper and after clearing his plate he drank a bottle of formula. After dinner I changed him and wrapped him up but it was a fight-sleep night so the rocking went on for an hour. I have stopped singing lullabies and he still isn't crying much before sleep so maybe it was me making him cry with my voice all along!
I laid him in his crib and went to bed, and just as I got comfortable he woke up crying. I got up and rocked him back to sleep, and then went back to bed for half an hour before the crying started again. I don't know if he wasn't feeling well, or just was feeling lonesome, but we were up four times before midnight and I was feeling beat. At that point my husband got up and I crashed until 4:30 when I woke up and found them both on the couch. I sent my husband to bed and curled up with the baby for a couple of hours, watching the news as I dozed.
By the time 7 rolled around I was feeling pretty rested, and got ready to head to work. Ruckus was in a good mood this morning, quiet and playful. It is difficult to go to work on days like today, the sun is out and I want to stay home and play with my son. But it is good to provide for my family, and the work day is only so long. Soon it will be over and I can spend the weekend with my family, making memories.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Six Month Checkup
Ruckus had an appointment yesterday for his six month checkup. His pediatrician has been in practice for over 40 years and is now retiring. She is very small and frail looking, and a sweet lady. I will miss our quirky appointments with her and soon we will have to get to know his new pediatrician for his 9 month checkup.
Yesterday's appointment went well. We were the only ones there, as usual, and barely sat down before being called back. I undressed Ruckus and went with the nurse to weigh and measure him. He is 18 lbs., 10 oz., and 27 inches tall. His head measured 43 cm but who cares about that unless you are buying a hat?
I brought him back to the exam room and soon the doctor came in and asked what we were feeding him, if he sat up, rolled over, and if we had any concerns. She says that since he can sit up by himself without falling over he can now eat crackers (like Saltines), sliced fruits, pasta, cheese, etc. She also said that he can now have spicy foods which babies seem to prefer. Am I the only one who doesn't know this? Is this even true? For some reason giving a small baby a taco or spaghetti seems like the wrong thing to do, particularly as he only has one tooth.
She advised us to play peek-a-boo with him a lot to help him through separation anxiety, which he has yet to display signs of. Whether it helps or not, this at least sounds like fun.
She also said to use the word 'No!' for discipline and to put him, his toy and another child into time out if the need arises. Put the toy in time out! Luckily he does not have a sibling to squabble over toys with so this one will likely not be needed often. I think a better punishment is to put the kid into time out where he can see you playing with the offending toy, while he has to sit quietly and behave. Now that should teach him!
His doctor recommended feeding him high fat foods for dinner so that he will sleep more at night, so I gave him his first meat feeding last night. It did not go well. It was Gerber's Ham with Ham Gravy in a jar, and it looked and smelled like cat food. Ick. I made him his rice cereal as usual and put it on a small plate with a big spoonful of the ham next to it. I started with a few bites of the cereal, just to get the appetite going, and then offered the first bit of ham puree. He made a face but opened up anyway, and in it went. Suddenly he started gagging and making the funniest 'I hate this!' face I've ever seen. Dinner was pretty much over and ruined at that point. I managed to get him to take another bite of the rice cereal and one more of ham before he refused to open his mouth any longer, turning in his seat so he wasn't even facing me. I should feel badly for laughing.
I dumped the ham and rice in the trash and rinsed the spoon, and gave him a few minutes to recover. Not wanting to send him to bed hungry (and pay the consequences myself through lost sleep) I opened up some pureed apples and fed him that. He ate eagerly and then I gave him a bath. He is really too big for his baby bath any longer and spends the entire time kicking his legs to make great splashes and I end up soaked from just being near him.
I dressed him and rocked him to sleep and the house was nice and quiet at 8:00. The streak of not screaming for ten minutes before falling asleep has continued now for three nights in a row, so I am extremely hopeful that this is our new reality, and not just some fluke.
Yesterday's appointment went well. We were the only ones there, as usual, and barely sat down before being called back. I undressed Ruckus and went with the nurse to weigh and measure him. He is 18 lbs., 10 oz., and 27 inches tall. His head measured 43 cm but who cares about that unless you are buying a hat?
I brought him back to the exam room and soon the doctor came in and asked what we were feeding him, if he sat up, rolled over, and if we had any concerns. She says that since he can sit up by himself without falling over he can now eat crackers (like Saltines), sliced fruits, pasta, cheese, etc. She also said that he can now have spicy foods which babies seem to prefer. Am I the only one who doesn't know this? Is this even true? For some reason giving a small baby a taco or spaghetti seems like the wrong thing to do, particularly as he only has one tooth.
She advised us to play peek-a-boo with him a lot to help him through separation anxiety, which he has yet to display signs of. Whether it helps or not, this at least sounds like fun.
She also said to use the word 'No!' for discipline and to put him, his toy and another child into time out if the need arises. Put the toy in time out! Luckily he does not have a sibling to squabble over toys with so this one will likely not be needed often. I think a better punishment is to put the kid into time out where he can see you playing with the offending toy, while he has to sit quietly and behave. Now that should teach him!
His doctor recommended feeding him high fat foods for dinner so that he will sleep more at night, so I gave him his first meat feeding last night. It did not go well. It was Gerber's Ham with Ham Gravy in a jar, and it looked and smelled like cat food. Ick. I made him his rice cereal as usual and put it on a small plate with a big spoonful of the ham next to it. I started with a few bites of the cereal, just to get the appetite going, and then offered the first bit of ham puree. He made a face but opened up anyway, and in it went. Suddenly he started gagging and making the funniest 'I hate this!' face I've ever seen. Dinner was pretty much over and ruined at that point. I managed to get him to take another bite of the rice cereal and one more of ham before he refused to open his mouth any longer, turning in his seat so he wasn't even facing me. I should feel badly for laughing.
I dumped the ham and rice in the trash and rinsed the spoon, and gave him a few minutes to recover. Not wanting to send him to bed hungry (and pay the consequences myself through lost sleep) I opened up some pureed apples and fed him that. He ate eagerly and then I gave him a bath. He is really too big for his baby bath any longer and spends the entire time kicking his legs to make great splashes and I end up soaked from just being near him.
I dressed him and rocked him to sleep and the house was nice and quiet at 8:00. The streak of not screaming for ten minutes before falling asleep has continued now for three nights in a row, so I am extremely hopeful that this is our new reality, and not just some fluke.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Good Night Baby
Every night plays out the same. I make dinner in the hopes it will be ready around 7:30 which is dinnertime for Ruckus. We all eat at the table, like the TV families do, and chat about our day while I feed the baby his rice cereal or oatmeal and a bottle. We finish eating and put away the leftovers, and then get Ruckus changed into his pajamas.
I blow raspberries on his belly as I get him dressed and he giggles and then I wrap him in a blanket, and sit in the rocker or on the couch and start rocking him to sleep. Suddenly, even though he's been rubbing his eyes for almost an hour, he cries. Fights to get free. He isn't tired at all! He wants to play! The crying gets worse. I am torturing him!
I sing him a song. Sometimes it is rock-a-bye-baby, sometimes it is Guns N Rose's Sweet Child of Mine. Only the first parts of course because I can't remember the rest. I sing, he cries. Ten minutes later he is asleep and I breathe a sigh of relief that the crying is finally over, now I can relax and wind down and maybe sleep for a few hours.
Every night has been the same for a long time now, and I wonder every single night what I'm doing wrong, why the crying, the fighting sleep, why does it have to be a battle? I have tried not singing, telling stories, not talking at all, rocking faster, rocking slow, nothing changes the crying part just before sleep.
And then there was last night. Dad and I were a little wrung out from bagging up his mother's belongings for donation, and feeling a little down in the dumps. I sure wasn't in the mood for the crying. We did the routine. Ate, got changed, raspberries, snuggles, couch, rocking. I look down at Ruckus and he giggles. I look away. Look down again and he giggles. Look away, look down, giggles, look away, look down, giggles. By the time I get bored with this he has fallen asleep and I can't believe it. The crying didn't happen.
The. Crying. Didn't. Happen. I hope that tonight is just as good.
I blow raspberries on his belly as I get him dressed and he giggles and then I wrap him in a blanket, and sit in the rocker or on the couch and start rocking him to sleep. Suddenly, even though he's been rubbing his eyes for almost an hour, he cries. Fights to get free. He isn't tired at all! He wants to play! The crying gets worse. I am torturing him!
I sing him a song. Sometimes it is rock-a-bye-baby, sometimes it is Guns N Rose's Sweet Child of Mine. Only the first parts of course because I can't remember the rest. I sing, he cries. Ten minutes later he is asleep and I breathe a sigh of relief that the crying is finally over, now I can relax and wind down and maybe sleep for a few hours.
Every night has been the same for a long time now, and I wonder every single night what I'm doing wrong, why the crying, the fighting sleep, why does it have to be a battle? I have tried not singing, telling stories, not talking at all, rocking faster, rocking slow, nothing changes the crying part just before sleep.
And then there was last night. Dad and I were a little wrung out from bagging up his mother's belongings for donation, and feeling a little down in the dumps. I sure wasn't in the mood for the crying. We did the routine. Ate, got changed, raspberries, snuggles, couch, rocking. I look down at Ruckus and he giggles. I look away. Look down again and he giggles. Look away, look down, giggles, look away, look down, giggles. By the time I get bored with this he has fallen asleep and I can't believe it. The crying didn't happen.
The. Crying. Didn't. Happen. I hope that tonight is just as good.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Happy Half Birthday
Little Ruckus is a whole six months old today and I am so happy! I feel like we have all made it through one of the toughest six months of our lives and I'm glad to have the 'hard parts' behind us. His dad and I have survived the trial by fire method of learning what the cries mean, playing the what's-that-smell game, toy and furniture assembly, guess the rash and how to treat it, sleep deprivation, first illness, first tooth, two rounds of shots and countless mini-trials in between, all while not hating each other and maintaining a good mood so as not to depress the poor helpless child.
I am confident that the next six months will offer more challenges and opportunities for parental growth and I hope that Dad and I can rise to the occasions as they come. Sure, we'll have our moments of tearful defeat and the realization that almost nothing we do or don't do will make a huge difference in the long run, but we will try our best and take our lumps as they come.
So here is to belly sleeping, eating meat, and childproofing the house! May the next six months contain more good times than bad.
I am confident that the next six months will offer more challenges and opportunities for parental growth and I hope that Dad and I can rise to the occasions as they come. Sure, we'll have our moments of tearful defeat and the realization that almost nothing we do or don't do will make a huge difference in the long run, but we will try our best and take our lumps as they come.
So here is to belly sleeping, eating meat, and childproofing the house! May the next six months contain more good times than bad.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Missed It
The smell of his skin after a bath. The softness of his hands as he slaps my face, batting my mouth and nose indiscriminately, completely unaware that he may be causing pain or annoyance. The screeching for the heavens which makes that weird ringing noise between your ears, circling your brain and eliminating all thought. The stiffening of his back and limbs when resisting my efforts to contain him, showing his independence already at such a young age. I think to myself that the next few years will be rough, this child is already stubborn and strong willed.
How will I handle what is to come, the defiance combined with the strength and coordination to carry out his wants and desires?
How does one convince a wild animal to be tame?
Ruckus will be six months old in two days. He sits on his own, chews on everything within reach, smiles, babbles, and eats cereals and fruits and vegetables with delight and a hearty appetite. His first tooth made an appearance two weeks ago and he can't seem to leave it alone for more than an hour, chewing his hands and drooling like a faucet.
I love him. I love it all and miss him the minute I walk out the door, every single day. My arms feel empty as I carry my purse in to work, and I am missing a sloppy kiss from a certain charmer right this minute. I sit and wonder if he is sleeping right now, is he giggling at some silly thing the dog has done, is he rattling the glasses in the cabinet with his screams of delight?
I will dial the telephone and talk to his dad, my husband who has set his own life aside to care for our tiny man. Soon he will pass the phone to our baby and I will chatter in his ear, asking him to be good for his dad, and I will tell him that I love him and miss him so much. He will smile and mouth the phone until I am done and I will make it through this day.
Eight more hours and I will be home. I will hold his hand and tell him about my day, tell him how much I missed him, kiss his cheek. He will yank on my hair and slap my face and I will smile, and be happy.
How will I handle what is to come, the defiance combined with the strength and coordination to carry out his wants and desires?
How does one convince a wild animal to be tame?
Ruckus will be six months old in two days. He sits on his own, chews on everything within reach, smiles, babbles, and eats cereals and fruits and vegetables with delight and a hearty appetite. His first tooth made an appearance two weeks ago and he can't seem to leave it alone for more than an hour, chewing his hands and drooling like a faucet.
I love him. I love it all and miss him the minute I walk out the door, every single day. My arms feel empty as I carry my purse in to work, and I am missing a sloppy kiss from a certain charmer right this minute. I sit and wonder if he is sleeping right now, is he giggling at some silly thing the dog has done, is he rattling the glasses in the cabinet with his screams of delight?
I will dial the telephone and talk to his dad, my husband who has set his own life aside to care for our tiny man. Soon he will pass the phone to our baby and I will chatter in his ear, asking him to be good for his dad, and I will tell him that I love him and miss him so much. He will smile and mouth the phone until I am done and I will make it through this day.
Eight more hours and I will be home. I will hold his hand and tell him about my day, tell him how much I missed him, kiss his cheek. He will yank on my hair and slap my face and I will smile, and be happy.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Sweetness
Watching television this morning I happened across one sad story after another about sick and dying children, as I held my own baby in my lap. He was especially affectionate this morning and I hugged him close, thanking God that I had him to hold, that he was healthy and such a blessing in my life.
When I was pregnant with him I imagined how much my life would change once he was born, how things might be with him. I had no idea it would be this good, this Right Feeling, or that it would be as hard as it sometimes is. But the hard times are worth it, as they lead to the good times, the truly great times.
I whisper in my son's ear that I love him, and that he's my favorite part of the day. I hope that he knows what these things mean, someday, and that he remembers me loving him this way. I know that he will grow up and be a rough and tumble boy in the not too distant future, and these times will be rare, so I try to soak them up as they come, and treasure every moment. Naturally this does not always work as life tends to get in the way and make you so busy you don't have time to savor the moments.
It is a tenuous balance.
When I was pregnant with him I imagined how much my life would change once he was born, how things might be with him. I had no idea it would be this good, this Right Feeling, or that it would be as hard as it sometimes is. But the hard times are worth it, as they lead to the good times, the truly great times.
I whisper in my son's ear that I love him, and that he's my favorite part of the day. I hope that he knows what these things mean, someday, and that he remembers me loving him this way. I know that he will grow up and be a rough and tumble boy in the not too distant future, and these times will be rare, so I try to soak them up as they come, and treasure every moment. Naturally this does not always work as life tends to get in the way and make you so busy you don't have time to savor the moments.
It is a tenuous balance.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
I Hate The Nightlife
Once upon a time, when Ruckus was about four months old, we used the 'cry it out' method of sleep training, and lo and behold, we found ourselves sleeping around 5 to 6 hours a night. In one stretch! Then my husband's mother got very sick and died, and all of that sleep went right out the window as quickly as it had come. These days, sleep is very hard to come by. I work full time, my mother is just out of the hospital after a heart attack and triple bypass surgery, my brother is in town, and we've all been sharing The World's Worst Cold.
Last night was no exception. I went to visit my mom at her house after working all day. By the time I got to my own home I had been gone for nearly 12 hours. My brother and husband were there, starving, and Ruckus greeted me with a super sweet smile that only babies can pull off without looking cheesy.
I grabbed a beer and changed out of my dress clothes, and took over baby duty for about an hour. Then it was time to cook dinner. I made chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes, sauteed mushrooms, and a mushroom gravy for the grownups, and mixed up some rice cereal and a bottle for the baby, and we all ate at around 8pm. This is not an unusual hour for us to eat most days. Life is so busy that time just seems to slip by unnoticed.
Ruckus is always pretty sleepy right after dinner, so I wrapped him in his blanket papoose style and rocked him to sleep with his bottle, and eventually, just a pacifier. After a little while of rocking (when my back got tired) I laid him in his crib, switched on the monitor, and waited. The first 20 minutes is always the most tense, as I sit on pins and needles to see if he will immediately wake up, or if he is going to slip into a deep sleep, giving me a break.
Last night he slipped into dreamland without a hitch. I stayed up until about nine visiting with my brother and listening to my husband snore from three rooms away. I crawled into bed and heard the snoring first hand. I couldn't sleep through that, no way. When Ruckus started crying at about 9:30, it was almost a relief. I got up and scooped him up, gave him a bottle and then rocked him back to sleep, for what would turn out to be the first of many times that night. When I went back to bed I purposely bumped the bed hard to wake my husband, hoping to slip into sleep before he could resume snoring. It worked, and I fell asleep. By now it must have been about 10:30.
11:00 rolls around and Ruckus is up again, this time to play. He does this sometimes and gets mad when we try to rock him, wrap him in blankets, sing songs, or do anything really which impedes his freedom to play. I was beat and after nearly an hour of fighting it, I finally threw in the towel. I laid Ruckus in his crib and went to bed, not caring if he wanted to stay up and play but not having the energy to watch him do it any longer. I went back to bed and by then my husband was waking up, wondering what was going on. I tagged him in and he went to play with the baby while I went back to sleep.
Around 1:30 I woke up and they were still at it, and I just couldn't take it anymore. I went into the nursery and wrapped Ruckus in his blanket, plugged him into the bottle and rocked him. Ten minutes later we were all climbing into bed, desperate for what little sleep the remaining bit of night had to offer. We all awoke another three times before 5 a.m., when I had to get up to get ready for work this morning.
Sleep training will resume in earnest this weekend, come hell or high water. I dread the nights these days and can't keep dragging myself through each day in a fog. My husband is showing signs of stress too, as he exists on about the same 4 hours of sleep as I do and then takes care of the baby all day while I am at work. Ruckus only naps for about a half hour at a time during the day, so this leaves a very small window for his dad to catch any nap at all.
Last night was no exception. I went to visit my mom at her house after working all day. By the time I got to my own home I had been gone for nearly 12 hours. My brother and husband were there, starving, and Ruckus greeted me with a super sweet smile that only babies can pull off without looking cheesy.
I grabbed a beer and changed out of my dress clothes, and took over baby duty for about an hour. Then it was time to cook dinner. I made chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes, sauteed mushrooms, and a mushroom gravy for the grownups, and mixed up some rice cereal and a bottle for the baby, and we all ate at around 8pm. This is not an unusual hour for us to eat most days. Life is so busy that time just seems to slip by unnoticed.
Ruckus is always pretty sleepy right after dinner, so I wrapped him in his blanket papoose style and rocked him to sleep with his bottle, and eventually, just a pacifier. After a little while of rocking (when my back got tired) I laid him in his crib, switched on the monitor, and waited. The first 20 minutes is always the most tense, as I sit on pins and needles to see if he will immediately wake up, or if he is going to slip into a deep sleep, giving me a break.
Last night he slipped into dreamland without a hitch. I stayed up until about nine visiting with my brother and listening to my husband snore from three rooms away. I crawled into bed and heard the snoring first hand. I couldn't sleep through that, no way. When Ruckus started crying at about 9:30, it was almost a relief. I got up and scooped him up, gave him a bottle and then rocked him back to sleep, for what would turn out to be the first of many times that night. When I went back to bed I purposely bumped the bed hard to wake my husband, hoping to slip into sleep before he could resume snoring. It worked, and I fell asleep. By now it must have been about 10:30.
11:00 rolls around and Ruckus is up again, this time to play. He does this sometimes and gets mad when we try to rock him, wrap him in blankets, sing songs, or do anything really which impedes his freedom to play. I was beat and after nearly an hour of fighting it, I finally threw in the towel. I laid Ruckus in his crib and went to bed, not caring if he wanted to stay up and play but not having the energy to watch him do it any longer. I went back to bed and by then my husband was waking up, wondering what was going on. I tagged him in and he went to play with the baby while I went back to sleep.
Around 1:30 I woke up and they were still at it, and I just couldn't take it anymore. I went into the nursery and wrapped Ruckus in his blanket, plugged him into the bottle and rocked him. Ten minutes later we were all climbing into bed, desperate for what little sleep the remaining bit of night had to offer. We all awoke another three times before 5 a.m., when I had to get up to get ready for work this morning.
Sleep training will resume in earnest this weekend, come hell or high water. I dread the nights these days and can't keep dragging myself through each day in a fog. My husband is showing signs of stress too, as he exists on about the same 4 hours of sleep as I do and then takes care of the baby all day while I am at work. Ruckus only naps for about a half hour at a time during the day, so this leaves a very small window for his dad to catch any nap at all.
Introductions
My name is Candy and I am 33. And a half. I don't know why people stop saying that as they go from child to adult but I never have. I have a 24 week old son who keeps me up most nights. We call him Ruckus due to a mistake my friend made with his actual name, and it seemed so appropriate that it just stuck. I also have a husband who I love dearly and depend on to help me through this crazy part of our lives. We cling to each other like life rafts most days, and he usually thanks me for coming home at night.
I work at a law firm full time, and have since Ruckus was just 7 weeks old. That was rough, going back to work. I had set up a babysitter to watch him during my workdays and a week before my scheduled return to work I popped in to see if all was well and good for leaving my beautiful baby, and I was surprised to see the place trashed, and strange people milling about as they waited for a drug connect. I placed a frantic call to my husband and asked how he would feel about staying home for a while with the boy, and we put that plan into action the following week. It has been a strange time for us as my husband transitions from a truck driver to a stay at home dad. I love it even though I know how hard it must be for him. But he does a fabulous job with our son and has yet to burn down the house while cooking breakfast or making my lunches so I can't say a single bad thing about it.
I work at a law firm full time, and have since Ruckus was just 7 weeks old. That was rough, going back to work. I had set up a babysitter to watch him during my workdays and a week before my scheduled return to work I popped in to see if all was well and good for leaving my beautiful baby, and I was surprised to see the place trashed, and strange people milling about as they waited for a drug connect. I placed a frantic call to my husband and asked how he would feel about staying home for a while with the boy, and we put that plan into action the following week. It has been a strange time for us as my husband transitions from a truck driver to a stay at home dad. I love it even though I know how hard it must be for him. But he does a fabulous job with our son and has yet to burn down the house while cooking breakfast or making my lunches so I can't say a single bad thing about it.
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