Rant

I'm in a bad mood. I didn't sleep well last night (as usual). That little fact has made me irritable today, which makes me want to rant. Here goes.

Why do people always ask these two questions: "What does your baby like to eat?" and "Is he sleeping through the night?"

As if giving the right answer makes you a good mother. I regularly feel self conscious when people ask me that. My honest answers are "Er....cheerios...sometimes." and "Not in months. If he doesn't have a boob in his mouth, he wiggles and makes lots of noise."

But my answers usually come out like this: "Cheerios are his favorite!" and "Not too bad. Sometimes he wakes up to nurse."

Lies. Total lies. My son will only eat food if he can feed himself. And he sucks at getting it into his own mouth. He's working on it, and improving every day. But for now, the floor has a more balanced diet than this kid.

He uses me as a pacifier at night. This was a great plan when he was a little guy. He didn't really move or make much noise, so it was easy to nurse him while sleeping. Now he climbs, crawls, bites, whimpers, and pinches in his sleep. He technically doesn't wake up all night. But he sure wakes me all night. (and isn't that what they are really asking anyway) This waking occurs whether he sleeps with me or in a crib. Makes no difference.

My son is not a consistent eater or a heavy sleeper. But he is very happy and very healthy. And he grows like a weed. We must be doing something right.

So why do people keep asking these questions? Can't they think of anything else to say to a mother of a baby?

Okay. I think I'm done ranting now.

Fall Family Fun Day

Yesterday was our annual Fall Family Fun Day. We all went to the Schuykill Valley Nature Center for a nice Autumn walk. Then we headed over to a church in Flourtown for pumpkins. And we wound up on Forbidden Drive at Valley Green for dinner. It turned out to be a pretty good FFFD.

We dressed Jack up like Dennis. We are always joking about how alike they look. Keith and I had a Free Kenny Rice shirt made up. (Infamous, if you know Dennis McCarthy) Kenny Rice is a plumber Dennis knows. About 20 years ago, he was incarcerated for DUIs and spent six months in county prison. Gerry Kehan had these t-shirts made up with a picture of Kenny's cell stating FREE KENNY RICE. This has been a staple in Denny's wadrobe ever since. Jack donned his FREE KENNY RICE onesie, his side parted hair and his argyle sweater. He was very Dennis McCarthy.

More and more Jack hates the car seat. It's almost time for him to switch to a bigger one. Perhaps that will ease his anxiety.

He's also reverting back to newborn like habits with breastfeeding. Actually, at night, he's feeding more frequently than he did as a newborn. This is making me nuts. He woke me up seven times last night. This has been going on for weeks now. I don't know quite what the problem is here. I guess he's just gotten into the habit of finding boobs everytime he rolls around in his sleep. Whenever this has occured before, the problem solved itself in a week or two. But we are going on four weeks now. I'm at the end of my rope in terms of sleep deprivation. Something's got to change.

Perhaps it's our irratic schedule. Because I sometimes work at night, Jack doesn't always get the same bedtime routine. I think it's time I was more consistent with our night time rituals.

I'm getting really excited about the pending birth of Baby Elzie. Tomorrow is her due date. She's gonna be so teeny and cute!

The Orange Ball

Jack has become very attached to his orange ball. Actually, it isn't his. It's mine. I stole it from an arcade in Niagra Falls when I was 19 or 20. It was perfect for self-massage. It's small and hard (that's what she said) so it's great at zapping trigger points. Anyway, I gave it to Jack the other day to play with and I swear he hasn't let go of it since.

The ball has gone grocery shopping. It has gone to the bank. The ball tags along with Jack to every meal. Jack chases the ball down the hallway. Jack tries to eat the ball. Jack tries to eat the ball while he's nursing. He climbs on the furniture with the ball in his his hand. Jack loves the little orange ball and the little orange ball loves Jack.

I also wanted to confess that Keith and I have been eating ice cream for breakfast all week. Over the weekend we made a whole lot of apple crisp. It contains oatmeal and apples. So Keith figures, why not eat it for breakfast...with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

I'm not so into apple crisp for breakfast. I have, however, been scooping the vanilla ice cream into my morning coffee. Yum!

Baby proofing? Oh my.

So the kid is mobile, no question. He gave us no time between learning to crawl and learning to climb up on things. He just crawled over to the couch one day and stood up. We think he's part monkey. As a side note, he also loves bouncing in his bouncer, being thrown up in the air and spun around in circles. I cannot wait to take this kid to trapeze class in a few years.

Back to Jack's crawling habits. We are quickly learning that our house in not babyproofed at all. We had plans to baby proof as soon as we moved in, but we never did. Now the need for it has snuck up on us. Check out this picture of my bathroom. Note the hanging wires and bottle of bleach. Eek! It's not safe!

But how far does one go with babyproofing? I'm overwhelmed with all of the products on the market to keep my baby safe. Obviously the bleach and the cords have to go. But what else? Should we bolt down all furniture? Should we put padding on corners? Should we put bars on the windows? Or should just we strap a pillow to him and hope for the best?

Yes. Maybe instead of babyproofing the house, we should house proof the baby! Ha ha.