Two Sides, Same Coin

The Lag Liv family did not have a good night last night. To set the scene: Between 5:30 and 6:00 pm JP deteriorated from perfectly healthy to a total flu-like mess. 102 fever, body aches, chills, night sweats- I had to bench him as a parent and send him to bed at 7. Claire had spent all day being very mad at the world- whether it's allergies, a tummy ache, gas, teething, or more likely- a cataclysmic combination of all four, she was pissed and she wanted everyone to know. Holding her didn't seem to make much of a difference, but of course I spent all day doing it anyway, and she's heavy. Landon has had a cough and runny nose for a few weeks, though the pediatrician thinks it's just allergies. I feel fine, which should be a good thing, but it's not because I had to deal with everything while my co-parent lay shaking and shivering in our bed.

angry biscuit

I got in bed about 11 p.m. because Claire didn't fall asleep until 10 and I still hadn't eaten dinner. Then Claire woke up at 2 a.m. oddly happy but quickly turning very angry. I finally got her back to sleep (with new non-snot covered sheets and a fresh batch of water in the humidifier) at 3:30 and crawled back into my bed after forcing some more Tylenol down JP. At 6:45 a.m. I heard a horrible screamy-whining sound coming from upstairs and remembered that my sister's dog was up there (long story; she's living with us for the next two weeks but didn't come home from wherever she was last night). I ran up to let him out but he was in such a frenzied state that he accidentally peed in the living room on the way outside. At that moment Landon walked up to me (he'd been in the play room where he usually is in the morning before we get up) and said, "Puppy is dirty." I look down at his little pound puppy and yep, his soft brown fur is matted with what can only be puke, which I then notice is also all over Landon, his pj's, and his hair. I went back upstairs and opened Landon's door to find what can only be described as a scene from a horror movie. Literal mounds of throw-up on his bed so thick I had to scoop them off before I could even think about putting anything in the wash. Landon has only thrown up twice since he was a baby and I am SO glad. I do not handle it well- I was fighting down dry heaves and only the fear of waking up Claire kept me from screaming for JP's help (well that and his own sickness, but I'm not sure that alone would have kept me from calling him back into duty).

hiding from the horror

I dealt with the washing and the scrubbing of both child and bedding (and carpet) while trying to explain to Landon that when he gets sick (or "makes a mess" in his bed, which seemed to make more sense to him than the word sick, because he insisted he felt just fine), he needs to TELL MOMMY AND DADDY. He apparently saw no need until he realized his puppy's fur was less than pristine. JP and Claire woke up a little later, both feeling slightly better, and the day proceeded much better than it started. Right now everyone is sleeping, including my sister and all three dogs, which is why you're getting this post.

happier children, 11 a.m. this morning

So that's one side of the parenting coin. The hard side, the side where you really think some sort of monetary bonus should be issued for mornings like this one.

Luckily, there's a completely awesome side as well. On a normal morning Claire gets up around 7:30 a.m. I pick her up and she greets me with a smile. Her, "oh yay, a person! I like persons! They bring warmth and verticalness and bottles. No one has ever been mean to me in my whole life, so I love every body" smile.

And then I wait, until approximately 1 full second after I've picked her up, and her "hi" turns into, "OMG OMG HAI!!! OMG IT'S YOU!!! My very FAVORITE person is HERE! Oh I LOVE you! Oh let's cuddle and smile for many minutes and I will wave my arms and make smiles so big they take up most of my face. Just for you, because you are my favorite. OMG YAY!!"

It is awesome. JP loves me, but even he does not go into literal spasmodic fits of delight because of my mere presence. I haven't been able to get the transformation on video yet, but here's a picture of a smile maybe 2 levels down from the mommy/daddy smile:

HIIII!!

So being a parent, it can suck and it can be quite incredible-- and it can occasionally be incredible even while it's sucking. It's something I'm really glad I jumped into blind because until you're there, you can kind of see how the awful is really awful, but you can't fully grasp how absolutely awesome the awesome is. From the outside it seems irrational, and well, I suppose it is, but it's also really, really great.

partay

Two More Things

Two things that should have been included in the last post, but I couldn't go back and add because holy crap it's long enough already:

(1) We count to three before Landon has to go to his room. So if we've asked him to do something and he just stares at us, we'll ask again and then count. If by 3 he's not moving his little self over to do whatever we asked, it's up to his room. We added it because I felt we needed some sort of grade period between initial defiance and eventual compliance, and that grace period is three seconds.

(2) We also always try to tell him how many minutes he has until we're going to leave somewhere. At the park, at daycare, at our house before we go run errands-- anywhere. If we say, "Landon we're going to go in 10 minutes." and then give him another warning at about 2 minutes, life is SO much better for everyone. It's extraordinary. We started it on accident with telling him when we would be eating dinner (so when he was going to have to stop playing whatever he was playing) and then it crossed over to everything. It's a little thing, but that small amount of advance warning and knowledge of the day's schedule makes Landon okay with any change. He never has tantrums because we have to leave somewhere and I think that's partially why.

Okay, that, along with my comments on the last post, should be all I have to say on that topic (for now). Next up will be a new post from Little Miss Clairebear, who I almost regret to admit has increasingly become "the Biscuit" to all of us.

Again

I left out one special little detail about Landon and my trip to Houston. On Saturday night I got back from the bridal shower around 12:30 a.m., had a terrible stomach ache (possibly related to the three cake pops I ate), and fell asleep a little after 1 a.m.

At 3:15 there was a loud wail and cry for MOMMMMEEEEEEEEEEEE coming from my brother's old room. It was Landon and he was pissed. Once I calmed him down, he was wide awake. He wanted nothing to do with the strange pack 'n play on the floor of the strange room and kept asking to go on a walk to the park. I explained that it was dark outside and everyone was sleeping. We walked to the window to investigate the darkness. Landon nodded his head seriously and asked if the sun was hiding. I applauded myself on our ability to reason through problems, and told him, yes, the sun was hiding and it would come out after he went back to sleep and woke back up in the morning. He nodded again and then said, "I can walk in the dark." Damn the infallible logic of a 2-year-old.

From then on nothing I did mattered. I tried lying down next to his pack 'n play on the floor, which worked until I got cold, thought he was sleeping, and tried to crawl out of the room. Many minutes of screaming later I tried sleeping in my brother's bed next to the pack 'n play. Every five minutes Landon would ask where I was and then he'd want to chat. We tried walking again but he threw a fit when I wouldn't let him have his morning breakfast bar. "It's not morning yet," I explained reasonably. Landon responded by throwing the biggest tantrum he'd thrown since June.

I called JP at 4:45, crying, while Landon flopped about on the floor next to me. I kept asking him why we were doing this again. I'd forgotten what it was like to be this tired, to want your child to sleep so badly it hurts. I was reliving Landon's first nine months and was certain I couldn't survive it a second time.

At 5:30 my mom came upstairs. I had put Landon back in the pack 'n play to scream while I sat up in my bed staring catatonically at the wall with the lights on. She took the little demon downstairs so I could sleep and drive back to Austin without killing us both. Landon never went back to sleep and acted impervious to my glares when he bounced cheerfully into my room to say good morning a few hours later.

I rounded out the morning by feeling more nauseous than I had in weeks and throwing up repeatedly in my parent's bathroom. The last time I threw up was 1L year after I drank two bottles of wine at law school prom. I'm sure it was somehow Landon's fault.

Yesterday I had my 14 week check-up. JP told Landon that mommy was going to the doctor check on the baby, and Landon said he wanted to give it a kiss. (I'm pretty sure he thinks there's a ready-made baby hanging out at the doctor's office just waiting for us to take him/her home.) He settled for giving me a kiss and huge hug and then waved and blew kisses as I backed out of the driveway. At the doctor's I heard the whoosh whoosh of a strong heartbeat, and suddenly the phrase, "I can't believe we're doing this again" didn't sound nearly as dire as it had at 4 a.m. Sunday morning.

A Present for Mama

I'm taking a staycation this week. I knew we couldn't afford to travel anywhere and I decided that with a house and a Landon, it would be just as fun, and probably much more relaxing, to use my vacation days to stay in. I'm working from home today and tomorrow and then Wednesday through Friday I am offline. My last day off didn't go so well, but I've been looking forward to this for a while.

And it was perfect. It was as though Landon gave me a present for his birthday (which really, given that we grow and give birth to the children, should be the way it works). He went to daycare in the morning so I could do some work (and today was "gymnastics class", which Landon apparently adores), but I picked him up at 11 because I missed him. I arrived in the middle of lunch and it was hysterical to watch Landon freeze in his chair making frantic "eh! eh!" noises while he tried to decide what to do- shove all his food in his mouth and then run over to me, or just run over to me first? I ultimately won and we celebrated by having more lunch at home.

I still had work to do but for possibly the first time ever, Landon played happily and independently around my desk and in the play room. I think it's the ridiculous number of "buses" he received at his party. He hasn't had any new toys since Christmas and I think he's finally old enough to really be excited about the newness of them.

After nap time we went to the park. It was only 102 today, with a nice breeze, so it was almost pleasant to be outside helping him dig up wood chips to put in the bucket he carried around like a purse.

He also did lots of climbing on equipment outside his age range and three times I had to chase after him because he'd spotted a dog he wanted to pet wayyyy across the park by the mailboxes. Once I reached my maximum heat intake for the day we headed back home where Landon played with his buses and I did some more work. I even managed to have two conference calls without any yelling of any kind! I interspersed my typing with peekaboo and racing cars down the hall. My sister just started her first post-college grown-up job here in Austin, so Landon and I decided to take her out to dinner (JP had a company thing). He loves his aunt and spent much of dinner smiling at her and eating her tater tots. When we got home it was past his bedtime, so we headed upstairs for the bath/book routine. The dump truck ("BUS!") had to come up too, which added approximately 17 minutes to our climb up the stairs, but we made it.

After the bath it was time for a book. Landon selected "Bark, George," as he has done every night for the past two months, and then he crawled into our reading chair and tried to look too cute to be put to bed.

After we read our books, he magically accepted the fact that we needed to motor our buses into his room and go night night. At this point, he had absolutely convinced me that he was too perfect and too sweet to be put to bed, but I was trying very hard not to tell him that.

Once in the nursery we put his two favorite buses into bed, stacked up his favorite books, and swapped out his orange blanket for a bus covered sheet. I was expecting at least some of the usual protest, but nope, I put him in the crib and he snuggled down with puppy and exclaimed "Night Night Mama!" When I got out my camera to get a picture of him with his new trucks, he popped up his head and said, "Cheese!"

He said "night night" again as I closed the door to his room and I haven't heard another peep. I'm now sitting here in the study giggling at all the adorable things he did today and feeling so, so grateful to spend this time with him. Having a child is the hardest thing I've ever done and while I have been brought to my knees with exhaustion, fear, and frustration, I've also been blessed with days that make my heart hurt with wondering how I could possibly love him more. Today was one of the heart hurting days. Nothing extraordinary happened and we didn't stray more than 2 miles from home, but it's one of the best vacations I've ever taken.

Tantrum Troubles

Landon has suddenly become a two year old. Not quite yet in age (his birthday is July 15th), but definitely in temperment. He's still usually the adorable, funny, cuddly little boy of the past several months, but he's spending an increasing amount of time as a frustrated, angry, screaming toddler.

Up until this point his few tantrums were over easily identified things like not being able to have graham crackers for every meal, not wanting to come inside, or not being able to splash in the dogs' water bowl. These I can deal with. I stick to my guns and relocate him to a carpeted surface where he can flop about in relative safety. I found that most of the time it only takes a few seconds for him to get over it, or if it seems like this one is going to last, I'll start reading a book out loud and he'll come over to join me, tears of outrage forgotten.

But now there are times I have no idea what he's suddenly so mad about and I'm not entirely sure he knows either. He's just mad. And he wants to scream about it, at my feet and between my legs, until his face turns red and sweaty. I don't know what to do about these. He doesn't seem to want anything, there's been no change in activity or location, he just kind of flips out. And he only does this with me.

This morning when I went to get him from his crib he immediately started shaking his head, kicking and screaming, and yelling "No No No". He swatted at my hands when I went to get him, so I just left the room and fed the cat. I came back in about 30 seconds later and asked if he wanted to get down, I think he did, but he was still screaming No! and kicking the rails of the crib, so I said "okay, I'll get you when you stop screaming" and left again. Repeat this about 4 more times and he finally answered "yes" when I asked if he wanted to get down and then he was good for most of the rest of the morning. What on Earth is that about?! He does that a lot when we're home at night too. JP is coaching until 7:45 and I'm alone with him, and I'm still a little sick, and very tired, and he just screams at my feet regardless of what I do (he screams when I pick him up too). And then suddenly he'll stop and be so charming and funny and sweet that I almost can't believe he was so awful a few minutes before.

I worked until nearly 2 a.m. last night and will work at least that late tonight (major deadline this Friday), and I want to cherish that 5:30-8 p.m. block of time I get to spend with Landon in the evenings (he doesn't ever see me work- my laptop, blackberry, and cell phone stay in my bag until he's down). But yesterday I lingered outside the daycare door almost dreading going in because I couldn't handle another 30+ minute fit of rage on my own. He quite literally acts like he's possessed. And then suddenly he won't be- and his stopping seems to have nothing to do with what I'm doing about it. It makes me want to throw a tantrum of my own when JP finally walks in the door.

I hate that I dread our time alone together. I hate that I don't know how to help him calm down - books, going outside, music, my ignoring him, change of location, etc. seem to have no consistent effect. I finally started him removing him from the room I'm in (we have a very open floor plan so he can still see me) and telling him that when he stops screaming he can come back to the kitchen (or wherever I am). Oddly enough that seems to help the fastest, though I feel bad just giving up and removing my sobbing child from my presence because I simply can't deal with it.

Sigh... he is still wonderful most of the time, I just wish I better knew how to help him calm the angry 2-year-old within.

Strep, Work, Codeine, and Cuteness

I woke up this morning coughing blood because my throat was so raw. At JP's horror and insistence I dragged myself to the doctor to receive a diagnosis of strep throat, some antibiotics, and Tylenol with codeine (so I can sleep, my throat hurts so badly that every time I swallow I get jolted awake). I stopped by work to pick up my laptop and was ordered by everyone to go home immediately and rest, but I know how much work there is to be done (we have a major production deadline Friday) and if I'm going to feel like crap I might as well be billing. I stopped at HEB to drop off my prescriptions and pick up a large slice of chocolate cake with buttercream icing. It wasn't prescribed by the doctor, but I'm pretty sure it's going to make me feel lots better.

Last night went surprisingly well. Landon only did his flip-flopping on the floor trout impersonation once, when I made him take off his apron before we left daycare (he loves the cherry apron from the dress-up corner, that and the red silk purse). He threw his food on the floor at dinner, which I took as a sign he was finished, so I removed his tray, which made him claw at his face in fury. That was new. I let his screaming self down and started reading a book in the play room; he joined me soon after and was very, very good the rest of the night. By 7:15 I was absolutely drained, so I got two couch pillows and laid down on the floor of the play room. He looked worried and kept walking over, laying his head on the pillow next to mine and saying "night night mama?" He then carefully made a stack of all his books, sat down next to me, and "read" every single one. Every now and then he'd lean over to rest his cheek on my shoulder like he does with the dogs and then go back to his books. He looked rather relieved when his daddy came home and could take over nursing duty.

And to end, here is a video clip of Landon showing of all his anatomy knowledge. It's about 4 weeks old and a little long, but blessedly unrelated to the image of my raw, bloody throat. (Ew, I brought it up again.) My favorite part is about 1:28 when he says "All Right!" That's his favorite phrase and every time you tell him "Good job" he responds with an enthusiastic "All right!". On Saturday he steered his tricycle to the mailbox (with me pushing from behind)- I couldn't help my constant flow of Good jobs! because he was steering so well and he kept exclaiming All right! and I was cracking up and oh, it was a fun 15 minutes.

No Regrets

Last night while JP and I were lying in bed, I started thinking about how tired we are, how hard this is, and what life was like pre-Landon. I thought about the friends we visited yesterday- how quiet and uncluttered their apartment was and how she was studying on the couch while her husband worked on the computer. I thought about how JP and I used to do that- sitting in our teeny downtown loft, doing individual work in companionable silence. I thought about how weekends used to be restful- how we'd look forward to sleeping in, making breakfast, walking around the city, reading and working in the afternoon, and then going out somewhere in the evening. I thought about all that, and then I turned to JP and asked in a small voice, "Do you think we should have waited to have kids?"

I know that you aren't supposed to ask that question- that kids are supposed to be so great, so full of wonder and joy, that you aren't supposed to imagine life before them. But the thing is, I remember very clearly what life was like before Landon, and sometimes, like when it's 9:30 and I'm exhausted and dreading the numerous baby wake up calls that will probably come throughout the night, I think that life before Landon was quite nice. I've had those thoughts before, but I'd never voiced them out loud.

And JP, who doesn't read parenting magazines or mommy message boards, and doesn't know that you aren't supposed to admit to longing for the pre-baby days, immediately answered with a resounding Yes. But then he qualified it with, "but we knew we were going to do it some time and at least now we'll get our house, weekends, and sleep back sooner than all our friends." And that's true. So then I, of course, had to ask him if he'd still want to hang out with me on the weekends in 18 years, and he responded, "Not if you keep doing this thing where you decide to have deep conversations 5 seconds before we go to sleep." Well, hmph, that's not quite the answer I was admittedly fishing for.

And then, just as if Landon knew he had taken me to yet another near breaking point, he only woke up once last night. After months and months of blaming his fussiness on teething, we can finally see two teeth poking through his bottom gum. We gave him Motrin at 7 PM; it's supposed to last 6 hours and 7 hours later he woke up for more and went right back down. I think for the first time in his life we were correct to finger teething as the reason for his interrupted sleep. He didn't wake up again until 6:15. JP went to entertain him while mommy slept in, and then at about 7:30, a very perky and handsomely dressed baby was tossed onto my bed. He gave me a delighted smile and proceeded to crawl (and drool) all over me and the covers. As I sat there, listening to his stream of babble and giggles and watching him try so hard to crawl, all the while throwing me big smiles over his shoulder, I thought, "this is so worth it."

Landon's presence in our lives has added enormous stress, strained our finances, and taken all of our sleep. We reached a few breaking points along the way. I clearly remember one night at around 3 AM, when Landon woke up crying for the millionth time, JP and I just lay there, literally unable to move and both hoping against hope that the other would get up or Landon would magically stop crying. I remember that I was about to cry when JP turned and said, "try to go back to sleep," and then went to get Landon. I heard him pick the baby up, take him out to the living room to rock him, and start to sing - usually something from Cross Canadian Ragweed or his own version of "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands", which involves God holding lots of varieties of bugs. And the funny thing is that when I think about that night, I don't focus on how tired we were or how hard having a baby is. What I remember most clearly is how I fell in love with JP all over again for getting up, even though he was probably more tired than I was, and how I laid in bed, smiling at the thought of God holding all the dung beetles in His hands, as per JP's lyrics.

I did not expect parenting to be easy. I did not expect it to be this hard. Sometimes I think we should have waited longer to have kids, most of the time I think it's good we started early. Having kids was never a question and if I have to be this tired, I'd rather it be now. Being in school has also given me the flexibility to attend all of Landon's doctor appointments while avoiding discussions with any boss about billable hours or commitment to my job. And really, none of the advantages and disadvantages, costs and benefits, or pluses and minuses matter. If we'd waited, there wouldn't be this particular Landon in our lives, and while I can imagine life pre-Landon, I can't imagine life without him in it at some point. This morning as I was driving down Lake Shore Drive on my way to school, I kept smiling at the memory of him crawling all over me in bed this morning. I wanted to pull over, unhook him from the car seat, and hug the heck out of him. But he was having a happy conversation with his elephant, and I know better than the interrupt a good thing. So instead, I just drove on and thought about how much love and smiles and laughter he's added to our lives, and even though I can definitely remember, and occasionally long for, life pre-Landon, I wouldn't go back for anything in the world.

Best Served Chilled

Currently sitting on my refrigerator shelf, resting comfortable between my box of caffeine-free diet coke and leftover spaghetti sauce, are two poo-filled diapers. Parenting is so glamorous.

Landon had two bloody stools yesterday. We called the pediatrician last night and she is very concerned about Clostridium difficile, a bad bacteria in the colon which is able to thrive because all the good bacteria in the gut has been eradicated by repeated antibiotic treatment (which Landon most certainly has had). JP is staying home from work again today to take him to the doctor's office for a stool culture. He has been such an enormous help over the past few days with Landon being sick (he's also developed a horrible cough and is tugging on his non-infected ear) and my finals looming ever closer. I'll keep you posted about the results.

Update, 3:45 PM: Landon is fine. The red poop is, well... red poop. Landon likes to keep us all guessing- including his pediatrician who had theories, but no certainties about what's causing it. Despite the mysterious poo, his newly developed 65-year-old-smoker-like cough, and the recent fever and ear infections, his surgery is still on for tomorrow at 1 PM. He is not to have any food after midnight, no formula after 6 AM, and no clear liquids after 11 AM. Yeah, it'll be fun trying to explain that to him tomorrow. He'll probably rub some bacteria in his ear to create another ear infection the night before my con law final as his revenge. The good news is that his baby modeling career can take off soon - maybe he can pay us back for his medical bills! (Just kidding about the modeling, though JP is convinced that Landon is the best looking baby ever and we could make millions if we sent his picture into Gerber. I'm just happy to have that bump off his eyebrow. It was getting really big and moved so easily it was starting to freak me out. And I'm sure the lady babies at daycare will appreciate his bump-free visage.)

Bumps and Bruises in Mothering

Yesterday, when exiting my illegally parked car to pick Landon up from Maya'a apartment, I admired the softly falling snow and noticed that it was starting to hide the sheet of ice covering the sidewalk. I made a mental note to be extra careful while walking with Landon because that path was going to be very slippery when I came back out

I went upstairs and was greeted with big smiles from Landon, wrangled him into his puffy coat, carried him out the revolving door, and immediately slipped on the ice. I caught my balance twice before falling hard to the ground. Seven months ago I would have thrown out my arms to soften my fall. Yesterday, I held Landon to my chest the whole way down. My throbbing right hip and elbow were probably not so pleased with my change from self-interested individual to self-sacrificing mom. Landon was fine, though startled and pissed about the snow on his pants; I am fine, though pretty badly bruised along my right side.

A little while ago Someone Being Me wrote about a mother's love for her baby even before he is born. You can read my less than eloquent comment there, but suffice it to say, I didn't have the feelings she describes. Landon's pregnancy was planned and his birth was eagerly anticipated, but contrary to what I'd heard from others, I felt almost no connection to him as a baby until after he arrived. And even once he was here, it took a while for me to really feel like I was a mom- like I was his mom- and that he was my son. Of course I knew he was my son in the biological sense, but the words "son" and "daughter" mean so much more and that extra meaning took a little longer to develop. I remember crying at lunch with JP while Landon was in the NICU because he was so full of love for his son and I felt like I was outside the loop- I knew him so well when he was inside of me, but I didn't know that baby in the isolette at all. I felt like a defective mother. I loved him, but not like I was sure I was supposed to.

But then slowly, over the days spent sitting by Landon's side in the NICU willing him to breathe normally, during the countless hours trying to feed him through the acid reflux pain, over the miles I walked in circles around our apartment calming his cries from colic, and through the delight I felt at his every movement, sound, and blink of his eyes, he became my son in every way that word is supposed to mean. I'm not sure when the transformation was complete (and I'm not sure it ever is, this morning when he gave me a giant smile while spitting out his pears I felt absolutely certain I could not possibly love him more- until I did, five minutes later when he pumped his arms in excitement as I made quacking noises), but I remember very clearly a morning in September when I realized that he felt like mine- and that I wasn't sure when it had happened.

And yesterday, when I was lying on the ice, holding a crying Landon with snow on his pants, but no bruises, one of my first thoughts was "I acted like a mom" and that made me feel really good, throbbing elbow, hip and all.

3.5

That's how many hours of sleep I got last night. It's not enough.

Landon went to sleep at 8:30. I went to bed at 11, but it takes me a long time to fall asleep, so I was still awake when he started crying at midnight. I went in to check on him, saw that he was fine, and decided we were not getting in the habit of eating in the middle of the night (his 17 lbs. and large belly are more than capable of going longer than that), so I gave him a few pats and went back to bed. Normally Landon will fuss a little and go back to sleep, but last night he cried, fussed, and yelled until we finally broke and fed him some bottle at 3am. He took a few sucks and fell asleep, only to wake us back up at 6:45am. I have no idea what was going on with him- he obviously wasn't that hungry, his diaper was fine, the crib was fine- he was fine! You could tell he was trying to settle and he'd even fall asleep while one of us was patting his back, only to wake up crying less than 5 minutes later. Is he teething? Is he trying to kill me?

I've had 2 cups of tea and my eyes burn every time I close them. He greeted me with a giant smile when I blearily shuffled over to his crib 6:45- it's a good thing he's so cute.

A Day in the Life of Landon

-described by Landon, transcribed by me-

2:30/4:45/5:00 AM: I wake up, either because I've flipped over onto my back and I DON'T LIKE IT, I'm hungry, or I'm sure my mommy and daddy have missed me and I want to give them some quality Landon snuggle time. One of them comes in to rescue me, I think they take turns, and I dig my nails into their neck and try to calm down. Sometimes it's very hard. They pop a bottle in my mouth, which I'm enthusiastic about at first, but then I just want to play. Mommy and daddy refuse to believe that 4:45 is morning, so even when I'm doing my very cutest tricks, they usually just change my diaper and stick me back in bed. I fight it as hard as I can, but when they turn on that rain forest soother thing I know I'm defeated. I take my revenge by flipping over on to my back and yelling exactly 15 minutes after they put me down- right when I know they're drifting back to sleep. Then sometimes I do that two more times. Other times I let them off easy after one.

7:30 AM: I wake up for real. I love it when mommy picks me up with wet hair because I like to stick the long strands in my mouth and suck on them. She always pulls them out though- sometimes she's no fun. Whoever is the most ready for work puts me in my highchair and prepares my gourmet breakfast. This morning I had oatmeal and pears. I'm getting very coordinated with the spoon- sometimes I even swallow before spitting the food out. So far pears are the only fruit I'll eat. My response to bananas is to stick out my tongue as far as possible and hold it there until the threat of bananas has passed. I won't even smile when daddy makes his silly faces because smiling is when they shovel in the food (they think I haven't figured that trick out, but I'm super smart). I like every vegetable I've ever tried- especially carrots, carrots are delicious. I like to hold the spoon and stick it in my mouth- sometimes I hit my nose, but my aim is improving.

7:45 AM: I get my hands and face wiped off. I try very hard to suck on the wet washcloth before it's taken away, and then someone dresses me in my daycare clothes (usually another set of pj's). I get very excited whenever I see my toes- they're SO silly. I grab them and try to put them in my mouth, but my belly gets in the way. Sometimes my toes disappear into my clothes and don't come out- it's very strange, but then I forget all about them and get so excited when I discover them again. Ooooh- TOES!

8:00-8:30 AM: Dad goes to work and Mom sticks me in various things to keep me entertained while she gets ready, cleans up my breakfast mess, and packs her bag. Usually I cooperate, sometimes I don't; I like to mix it up.

9:00 AM: Mom drops me off at Maya's. I get very excited when I see Maya and she says hi to me in Russian, which is the silliest language- it makes me smile a lot. Mommy gives me a hug, gives Maya my bottles, and goes to school.

9:00 AM - 5:00 PM: I play with the other babies, drink my bottles, and take my naps. I love seeing the other babies. There's a lady baby who's a month older than me and can sit up on her own and play with toys. My daddy says it's good to be around a woman who challenges you. She's explained the mechanics of sitting to me and I'm starting to get them right. I think my head must be bigger than hers because it's very hard for me to keep it balanced in the middle- if it strays from center, I fall over right away. But then when I'm on my side I see my TOES and I forget what I was trying to do before that... those toes are crazy. The other two babies can move around- it's amazing! I can't wait to do that.

5:00 PM: Mommy picks me up from Maya's and I give her lots of big smiles. She puts me in the car (why do I always have to face the backseat? so boring) and I tell her about my day. Sometimes she puts on the radio and I fall asleep; more often, we get stuck in traffic and I tell her how much I DON'T LIKE that. I prefer to go fast in the car.

5:30 PM: Home! Mommy and I play with my toys, sing songs, read books, talk to daddy on the phone, and practice our sitting and rolling. I don't like it when mommy goes more than 10 minutes without playing with me. She tells me she's doing things like "making dinner", but my dinner comes from a jar so I don't know what she's doing for all those minutes in the kitchen. I've gotta keep my eye on her. Sometimes she puts me next to that crazy white fluffy toy that walks around and makes noises and I get SO EXCITED- that toy is the coolest. I try to grab it's tail but it always moves away. I can't wait to chase after it.

6:30 PM: I eat my dinner. Last night it was carrots and green beans- yummy! I like to dive my head into the spoon when it's carrots- they're so delicious. I also like to put my hands in my mouth at the same time mom is putting the spoon in my mouth- it makes things more fun. My hands are delicious too. Actually, almost everything is delicious- except bananas. Bananas are gross. I drink some bottle after dinner and then we play until dad gets home.

7:30 PM: Daddy comes home! I give him lots of big smiles. Then mommy gets me naked- ooooh TOES!- and puts me in the big bathtub with daddy. Daddy says this is his favorite part of the day and it's one of mine too. I like to suck on my washcloth frog, my boat, my blocks, and my squirt toys. Water is sooo delicious. I try to stick my mouth in the bathwater, but daddy always stops me. I love it when he pulls me through the water and I can practice my swimming- it's SO fun. Mommy sits next to the tub and talks to us while we splash. When I announce that I'm done, she lifts me out of the tub and cuddles me in my fluffy hooded towel. We always stop to look at the silly baby in the mirror- that baby cracks. me. up. Every time. We stop by all the mirrors on the way back to my room where I get a new diaper and pj's (my toes usually disappear again at this point- they're crazy).

8:00 PM: Mommy and Daddy alternate eating their dinner and cuddling me. I drink my bottle, complain a little about the fact that the day is ending, and then I rub my eyes and bury my head in their chest. Daddy puts me down in my crib and pats my back and then I go to sleep. Except when I don't. Sometimes I like to do the roll over and yell trick that I do in the morning. I can't let my parents think they have things figured out- I defy schedules and planning, it's my job and I take it very seriously.

9:00 PM: I'm pretty much always asleep by now. Mommy and Daddy are doing whatever it is mommies and daddies do when their babies aren't around to entertain them. I think it involves the TV and talking. Boring. I'll probably wake them up at 2:30 just so they have something fun to look forward to...

I'm Sorry, We're All Out of Kindness and Patience

alternate title: Why You Shouldn't Have a Baby to "Fix" Your Marriage

Last night, Landon was fussy, it was the end of a very long week, JP had been working past 10pm every night so I had received almost no help, and we were both exhausted. Any shred of sanity, calm, and love I had left in my body went to Landon. I held him, walking endless loops around the living room, while he tried very hard to settle himself- he wasn't crying, he was just making those noises that let you know that he could cry again at any minute- especially if you stop doing exactly what you're doing.

JP was annoyed that Landon quieted in my arms and not his, I was annoyed that JP refused to do the things that I had figured out, through painful trial and error, help calm Landon down, and Landon seemed upset with the universe in general. JP was sad and angry he had so little time with him this week and I was sad and angry that I had so little help this week. By the time we got in bed JP and I hadn't spoken a word to each other in about 3 hours- there was no actual fight, we were just generally pissed off. We both needed sympathy- for different reasons- and neither of us could give it. Part of me wanted to talk about it, more of me was too tired to care, and I fell asleep in such a tensed position that my back hurt when I woke up this morning.

The vast majority of the time having a baby has been amazing for our marriage- seeing JP so in love with his little boy and sharing our utter delight in his every more has been our greatest bonding experience so far. But sometimes, when I have so little warmth and patience left, JP bears the brunt of it because Landon can't.

Luckily, we can go to bed mad because underneath all the tension we are both secure in the certainty that our marriage is much stronger than one crappy night- and when you're that tired, talking it out seems to end in us falling asleep madder. This morning Landon's cheerful, JP is swimming, and I'm well rested- we'll all be fine.

Emergency Room Transformation

Judging from the constant screaming, yesterday was the worst day of Landon's 7-week long life. It was also my worst day as a parent. He woke up at 7:30am and shrieked continually until 6pm when I finally took him to the emergency room. Every time he took a suck on the bottle he would start screaming. He would scream until he exhausted himself, take a 10 minute nap, and then wake up screaming again. His back was constantly arched, his body stiff, and his face red. He didn't take any real naps and only drank about 4 ounces of his formula. He also had diarrhea. It was horrible. I talked to the pediatrician twice and she finally told us to go in and have him checked. I loaded him in the car, called JP and told him to meet us there, and headed to the University of Chicago children's hospital. He screamed the whole car ride there, but the moment we crossed the threshold into the ER he stopped- he looked around, he babbled, he freaking smiled at me. He sat with a contented expression while I signed him in and explained his "condition" to the triage nurse. We were taken to an exam room where Landon happily chugged down a 4 ounce bottle and thoroughly charmed his doctor. He was declared in fine health and I think everyone thought I was crazy. Even JP, who heard Landon screaming through the phone each time he called to check on us, was looking doubtful. We left the ER after about 2 hours and were told to continue with the new formula and medication and that it often takes about 48 hours for the body to mount a reaction and adjust to it. Landon resumed screaming on the car ride home and back at the apartment, but luckily fell asleep exhausted at about 11pm. We still have our appointment with the pediatric GI specialist on Thursday- the reflux continues to cause tears at each feeding.

So first I wrote off all his crying as colic and fussiness and it turned out he had a painful case of GERD. Yesterday I acted on all the screaming and the doctors said he was fine. This kid is making a mockery of my mothering skills.

Classic Struggles

During the past 12 hours, I have experienced a few classic parent-of-a-newborn-moments:

Landon decided at about 10pm last night that he no longer needed sleep. He needed to be played with, entertained, fed, bounced, rocked, and held. But sleep? That's for sissies. So JP and I traded off 3-hour shifts of doing all the above. If we stopped doing any of it and tried something crazy like putting him in his papasan chair to sleep, he would scream. Not cry. Shriek. But as long as we were following the rules and entertaining him, he was quite adorable.

He finally "fell asleep" at 10am and I knew, based on his new sleep pattern, I had about 30 minutes to get something done. The options: call tech support because my internet went down at some point last night, call my midwife to schedule my postpartum appointment, take a shower (or at least change clothes), brush my teeth, and make something to eat. I picked tech support- I could do without food or a shower, but I couldn't handle a whole day in the apartment* without internet. So I made the call. Each time the tech support person said "try your internet now ma'am" I prayed it would work because we were getting dangerously close to baby-shrieking time. Sure enough, after 20 min. the internet still wasn't working and the baby was shrieking at 60 seconds intervals. Because I knew that he really was fine, I let him do that for a few minutes and when I finally went in his room, the cat was stationed by his crib and looking at me like "Will you PLEASE do something about this." It's tough having your parenting skills questioned by a somewhat psychotic cat. I scooped Landon up and managed to bounce him in my left arm, while cradling the phone on my right shoulder, and using one hand to type the commands as dictated by tech support. He only screamed twice and each time the poor tech guy was startled. After 10 minutes of that balancing act, my internet was fixed.

Later, Landon decided he could entertain himself for a little while in the play gym. I threw something together for breakfast (even though it's now 1pm)- frozen whole grain waffles and scrambled eggs. The minute my plate was prepared and I picked up my fork, he screamed. Since cold eggs are worse than cold waffles, I scarfed down the eggs and then bounce him while eating my waffles.

So it's been an interesting morning. He's so ridiculously cute when he's playing- despite the lack of sleep, he's in a great mood. He just likes to insert some shrieks every now and then to keep me on my toes. I actually think he had a series of tummy aches last night- he kept squirming and pulling up his feet and then stretching out again. He's been sleeping peacefully now for an entire hour, so hopefully he's feeling better. The funny thing about having a new baby is that once he is finally asleep, I want him to wake up again so I can see his face light up when his hand happens to make contact with one of his toys or watch his brow furrow in concentration while watching my mouth move when I read to him. But when he's screaming, I'm pretty sure he's at his cutest when he's snuggled and sleeping in his papasan chair.

*While it's true that it's the easiest to travel and shop with in his newborn state, because of his prematurity the pediatrician strongly recommended we keep him away from places with a lot of people until he's two months old. Since he's inheriting a generally shitty immune system from both of his parents, and JP and I both had pneumonia before we were 2 months old (and several more times after that), we're inclined to take her advice. And walks are out for the time being because the weather is so hot, humid, and muggy that it's miserable for him to be in his carseat.