"Adoo"

I don't know if a "first word" counts if it's not really a word, but I'm pouncing on it and labeling it "a word."

Adam has started saying "adoo." We don't know for sure what it means, but I'm starting to get a hunch. Everyone is "adoo." He points at Daddy. Adoo. Caley. Adoo. The mirror. Adoo. He says "adoo" to his toys. He said it while he was talking to himself in his crib last night. I swear he even said it in his sleep at 4:30 this morning.

Then I started to realize that he might be trying to say his name. Why wouldn't he? It's by far the most often used word in our house. It's at the beginning or end of nearly every sentence. I blush to think that my son's first word might be his own name. We're working on "Mom," which he has said but only because he's ticked off at something (usually recent breathing treatments or the sight of a bottle that did not go directly into his mouth at his initial desire) and "Daddy," which, when we say it, earns us a smile if we're lucky.

This morning he saw Eli, smiled, and said "ah-ah!"
I said: "Eli. That's Eli."
Adam said: "Adoo."

So for right now, everyone and everything in our house is "adoo."

His other new trick is waving. When he's carried into a room he raises his hand straight up in the air, smiles, and surveys his audience. It's a little like, "I'm here! I'm here, everybody!" When someone else walks into the room he does the same. And when he sees my dad, he does it every time. His waves (basically sticking his hand straight up) at my dad are big waves, for a long time, and usually on tip toes (if he's standing). I think that's where he learned the wave, so he wants to do it just right when he sees Grandpa.

Adam is also, for lack of a better word, popular at daycare (well, everywhere, but I'm referring specifically to interacting with babies around his age). When I picked him up today he was standing at a toy and had two of his friends standing and playing with him, like he was the ring leader. These two little boys, who over the age of 1 and are about Adam's height (not a typo - Adam is the height of a typical 14 month old) are consistently around him when I am there, and despite the 4 -5 month old age difference (which is quite a bit at that age, if you think about it), Adam seemed like he was in charge. But Adam isn't cliquish (if it's possible to be so at almost 9 months), and he does play with the one little 11 month old girl who is there (as he is just slightly bigger and just slightly more advanced than she).

And on a final note, I think it's hilarious how every child from the moment they can speak is able and extremely happy to point out "BABY!" even if they are "babies" themselves. We have passed a two year-old (or three) in the grocery store who immediately point at Adam and squeal "baby!" When I took him to Kroger yesterday, a father was shopping with his blonde, curly haired little girl with pink glasses, who had to be about 3, and she was helping him organize his groceries while she sat in the cart. When Adam and I walked by, she stopped long enough to put her arm up, wave at Adam and say loudly, "HI BABY!"

Adam didn't quite know what to do, but I smiled at her and waved and continued on my way, and Adam leaned his head all the way around me to watch her all the way down the long aisle. He does love the ladies.

Optimistic Friday?

Today Adam finally is acting like he feels better. His cough is still terrible, but he's smiling and willing to play more than 2 feet away from me. In fact, he's playing in his "house" right now and has gained back some of his appetite. Hopefully soon we can move on from his formula, cereal, and yogurt diet to the more substantial stuff and work on sleeping through the night again. :)

So while I'm posting, I thought I'd mention a few things about his development.

He thinks he's really funny. When you are feeding him and he's started to get full (or wasn't hungry in the first place), he takes a bite of food and squirts it out of his closed lips so it drips down his chin. I tell him firmly and without smiling to eat his food and stop spitting at me. But I have to turn my head to laugh.

He gives big, aggressive kisses with no warning. He usually aims for your nose in a big, open mouth attack, which is even more threatening as his sharp little baby tooth comes in on the bottom. It's sweet though.

All things belong outside of bags, containers, or pots. They do not belong inside of them. All doors, all books, and those little pop up toys should be closed, never open.

The only exception to this rule is the laundry room door, which he always has an eye on. If it's open, it's a race to get inside and the door closed before he's busting in to see what's going on. (He is currently beating on the door now). If he doesn't make it in time, or is caught and removed from the laundry room premises, it is no longer an "Aw, man..." type of reaction. It is a serious offense to have denied him the excitement of the laundry room.

You may ask why he is not allowed in the laundry room.

There are a few reasons:
#1) It's not big enough for the two of us.
#2) It leads to the garage and has a number of doors that pinch.
#3) It leads to the half bathroom, and I dread the day he learns the joy of toilet paper unrolling or repeated toilet flushing.
#4) It's disgusting on the floor in there.

In response to number 4, you may ask why I don't just clean it, to which I reply: "Well, you just think of everything, don't you?"

Adam loves his pacifiers, and since being home during the day and not feeling well, I have to admit he's gotten to have his paci all day long some days. He can have one in his mouth, come across another and spit out the one he already has to insert the new pacifier. (Grass is greener mentality starts early, doesn't it?) He can see it across the room, high on a table, the back of the couch... and be completely distraught when he can't reach it. I've tried to take it away when he doesn't really need it so it's not a beating when he goes back to daycare, where he's only allowed to have it at naptime (and so far has been just fine with that philosophy). Luckily he thinks it's funny when you pop it out of his mouth... but not so funny when you refuse to give it back.

He has two new favorite toys - a "house" given to us by the Thibeault family (who also supplied us with his previous favorite - the musical table, and the favorite prior to that - the drum), and "Potsy", a singing Leap Frog pot complete with cheese, tomato, corn, peas, broccoli, spoon and lid. The Pot doesn't get as much attention as the lid and the broccoli, specifically, which he thinks makes a decent make-shift pacifier (apparently a clean pair of socks does just fine too).

Adam LOVES to have his fingernails clipped and these grooming times are the only cases where he will sit still in my lap. (Exluding the times when he's sick or extremely sleepy.) When I bring out the nail clippers, he sticks his little fingers out delicately and smiles while I snip. We're working on the sitting still for diaper changes. He's getting better about it, but I suppose it's not as fun to sit still for that.

This morning before Shannon left for work:

Shannon: "Have you been calling Adam 'Sweetie Pie'?"
Erin: "No, I've been calling him 'Honey Bunny' lately."
Shannon: "He's a man. You need to call him 'handsome.'"
Erin: "I also call him 'Lovey Dovey.'"
Shannon: "You need to stop it."

I can't help it.

Adam's Challenge

Can Adam make you smile?

 

Challenge #1: Flight Risk

Challenge #2: Waffles

Challenge #3: Singing Myself to Sleep

 

RSV

Yesterday went went to the pediatrician for Adam's continued cough, cold, vomiting and fever, and as I was beginning to suspect, Adam was positive for Respiratory Syncytial Virus (RSV), which was also called Bronchiolitis on our pediatrician's RSV "Fact Sheet." His oxygen was low, she could hear crackling in his lungs, and they gave him a breathing treatment right on the spot.

If I thought breathing treatments were no fun on a 4 month old, I apparently didn't realize what a difference 5 months would make. I attempted to restrain a very opinionated almost 9 month old who some days I would swear is stronger than me (oddly it made me feel better when the doctor herself commented on how freaking strong the kid is. At least it's not just my absence at the gym lately) and he struggled and screamed and cried so much that he passed out in my lap before the treatment was over. I let him put his head down on my right shoulder, and he didn't even move when they came back in to listen to his chest.

The doctor wavered about giving him a steroid shot and ultimately decided to give us antibiotics (yes, more - he had JUST finished a three week dose a week earlier) and Xopenex for the breathing treatments. We had to buy a nebulizer ($30), but that isn't nearly as expensive as the medication itself. She also told us to schedule an appointment for first thing the next morning.

And I am so glad she did. This morning Adam was having very labored breathing, loud, chest-heaving, air sucking breathing... and coughs, and he kept yawning - I think in the attempt to get more oxygen. I gave him a breathing treatment right before we left for the appointment but it didn't do much good and I watched him in the rear-view mirror the entire way to the doctor's office, repeatedly reminding myself what a good thing it isthat the office is also located in the hospital. When I got to her office they saw us right away, and luckily his breathing had improved slightly. They gave him another breathing treatment, and he fussed a little but resigned himself to the fact that he really had no choice, I guess. They sent us home with stronger Xopenex and steroids, but were confident that he didn't need to be admitted to the hospital.

You know how it is when a couple things go wrong . . . (or in my case lately, a million things go wrong) . . . and it just seems like no matter what you do things just pile up on you to make it worse? After we got home, Adam went down for a nap and I collapsed in bed too. I fell asleep and when I got up actually had to wake him up 2 hours later to eat and get another breathing treatment.

So we did that. And he seemed like he was starting to feel a little bit better, so he played a little as long as it was within 2 feet of where I was.

If no one has told you before, antiobiotics can interact with the iron that they put in baby formula and make bright red dirty diapers. Blood is dark and turns black after awhile, but this red diaper is BRIGHT red and stays that way. It is scary looking, but it's not blood. We learned the hard way when they failed to tell us that a month or so ago and we had to take the embarrassing offending diaper up to the doctor's office. Well, this time they told me (um, a little late, I'm already a PRO at Red Diapers). So around 45 minutes after he had eaten he had a dirty diaper, a red dirty diaper, and not only did it not want to stay IN the diaper, it didn't want to stay confined to one area.

After changing his clothes, my clothes, the changing table cover, his socks, and scrubbing the carpet, I thought: What is going on with the universe lately?

There are many fun things going on this weekend and hopefully Shannon will get to sneak away to the Mavs game with Mike, but I think I'll be in this weekend, taking care of Adam, maybe cleaning the house, and attempting to recover from what is already one hellish year.

So, as Lisa put it so perfectly earlier today: "We'll hang out with life quits terrorizing you."

It has to stop eventually, right?

At least I have this cute little face with me - he's got a great attitude even when he feels like crap. Even the pediatrician called him "a little trooper."

Adam at church. In deep thought.

Hey, this guy looks just like me!

38 weeks old

38 weeks old

No, seriously. What are you doing?

Come closer, Eli... I swear I won't pet you too hard.

Caley's a good dog. She lets me climb her.

Funerals, Casts and Car Trips

At the risk of sounding overly pessimistic, I would hate to say that this past weekend was "the worst weekend ever," only because recent circumstances are revealing to me that just when you think things can't get worse, they do. So to say that recent days were "the worst ever," would only tempt fate to challenge my assumption that this is as bad as it can get, and I don't want to be proven wrong. I might not survive it.

My grandfather, passed away a week ago today, and his funeral was Saturday in Hutchison, KS. I will miss his stories and his smile when he saw me. I will miss him at Christmas each year and am just glad that I have recent fond memories.

But in the grand scheme of life, I'm sure that when we look back we realized that the times we coped the best are when we found humor amongst the sorrow.

This weekend Shannon was surprised to find himself experiencing many firsts:
1. First time in Kansas.
2. First time in Kansas in mid-January (which, for any of you who do not know - um, it's cold. It's cold and snowy and windy.)
3. First time to attend a Catholic Mass
4. First time to have to remove a tired, cranky baby from a Catholic Mass.
5. First time as a pall bearer
6. First time as a pall bearer in a Catholic funeral
7. First time as a pall bearer in a Catholic funeral in below-freezing temperatures while a priest throws holy water over the casket.

If two surgeries, a death, a seven hour car trip, a funeral weren't enough to fill our quota of bad things for the last week, my mom slipped on the ice just before the funeral and was wheeled around most of the day in a wheelchair. My brother jokingly fired himself from the job after he almost dumped her out of it twice, and my mom laughed with everyone when they joked that she just did it for attention. After the funeral she went to the hospital, and the verdict is.... broken foot, walking cast, crutches, the whole enchilada.


As we usually do when things get sad, we brought out the alcohol and made fun of each other. We ate pizza and drank beers at my Aunt Becky's house. Adam stayed for a while but wasn't feeling well so Shannon took him back to the hotel (where Adam gave Shannon "Hell all night"). It was good to see my cousins again and meet their kids, some of them for the first time. The bourbon flowed easily and the toasts kept coming . . . and all of the grand kids were able to take home one beer stein from Grandpa's collection. And at the end of the night, I drove my mom and my sister home. Chris went out to the crazy Hutchison bars.

So before we left for Kansas on Friday, we knew that Adam was getting sick. He had a horrible, hacking cough and a constantly running nose. But he was great on the car ride there. He slept the first half, played for a bit, and slept the last hour and a half or so. He acted like he felt okay. On Saturday it was worse, but not horrible. He was tired and over-stimulated but he dealt with it. By Saturday night he was starting to run a fever and sleeping much more. On Sunday it was worse and he didn't want to be put down.
 
He slept soundly the second he got in the car on Sunday, and we stopped at Outback to stretch our legs, get some lunch and feed him too. We hadn't realized that he really wasn't feeling well, and for the first time he was actually fussy and crying at the restaurant and making a scene. He had finished a full 8 ounce bottle in the car about an hour beforehand and had a clean diaper, and I had resorted to putting him in my lap while I ate my salad.
 
But before we knew it, he was gagging and vomiting all over himself, all over me, and all over the booth. Shannon jumped up with a napkin to try to control some of the damage, but it was probably the most vomit we've dealt with all at once. And believe me, there has been a lot. I was covered in it. We stripped Adam of his sweatshirt and he was still crying. We got some dirty looks, some looks of pity, and while we were trying to figure out how to either get the hell out of there or get him settled somewhere, an old couple was seated next to us and I heard the man complain to the hostess that they were sitting him next to an upset child.

Sorry, Sir. I understand that your lunch is inconvenienced. We wouldn't have brought him in if we thought he would have ruined your day.

The manager and the waitress came up and asked if he wanted some crackers or something to snack on, and I said, "No. He's not feeling well and we'd actually just like to have our food to go." Shannon reminded them that we'd need to-go cups. I was covered in vomit, Adam was still upset, and our food had just been placed on our table. I left Shannon to the packing up of the food and the check while I took Adam to the car, where I realized that his fever was actually pretty high (although I had no thermometer). It was so high that he was kinda dreamy and giggling at me, which he does when he's delirious. It's adorable and scary at the same time. But I was making funny noises at him too, so maybe I'm just really, really funny. That's probably what it was.

Shannon brought out our food, my purse, the vomit-covered clothes, the diaper bag, the coats in one weighed-down trip and he said he just started chunking things in in the rush to get out of there. I had to laugh when I saw silverware, cloth napkins, and porcelin butter dishes thrown in with my stuffed tilapia. Sorry, Outback. But two minutes back on the highway, Shannon asked if it was the best $40 lunch I've ever had. Ha.

We ate on the road, and drove the 3 hours back covered in vomit. I probably had extra pants
packed in the back of the pick up, but at that point all I could think of was home, shower, and bed. I wiped Adam down with baby wipes and gave him more Tylenol to get his fever down, and he slept the rest of the way. We made it home by 5. He threw up again before I could finish feeding him dinner, got a bath, and a nap from 6 to 8:30, when he woke up crying. We were worried that he'd have his days and nights mixed up, but then he slept all night (minus a 2 am feeding that Shannon graciously took care of).

This morning he seemed to feel much better and didn't have a fever so I took him to daycare. At 10:00 they called me to pick him up because of another fever. I brought him home, let him take a 2 and a half hour nap, and when he woke up I made him a bottle, put him in his bouncy chair in front of the TV and turned on Cars. After his bottle I gave him a little bit of pears, and he promptly threw up an entire 8 ounces of formula. The doctor appointment is scheduled for tomorrow at 10am.

Is it still only January?

Two Firsts in a Row

Adam slept through the night last night. Like, SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT!

I guess 37 weeks is the lucky number. My mom says that I didn't sleep through the night until 9 months old (Sorry, Mom and Dad. Officially - I'm sorry!) and Adam is about 2 weeks away from that milestone, so maybe . . . maybe . . . I'll sleep through the night once again. I'm not going to get my hopes up though. My optimism has been squashed far too often for me to fall for it that often.

I woke up at 7:15 and kinda snoozed before getting in the shower. I really thought that maybe I had slept so hard last night that Shannon had gotten up for the typical 2-3 am feeding and I had just slept through it. Adam woke up happy and smiling, and was standing up in his crib when I went to get him at 7:45. I changed his diaper, took him into the kitchen to put him in the highchair and make his morning dose of Nexium, and then I realized that our nightly pre-measured bottle of formula (sans water) was still sitting by the sink untouched. I had to text Shannon at work to be sure it had really happened and I wasn't losing my mind. He slept from 8:30 (ish) last night to 7:45 this morning. Wow.

We'll see if we can get that to happen again. I can count on one hand the number of times Adam has slept through the night. The first two times was at around 4 months old, right before he got bronchititis. (And of course, the bronchitis ruined that. Once it happened randomly at around 6 months old, and then a couple of weeks ago he slept through the night right before he got the Roseola (and he was miserable with that little virus, so of course it didn't last).

In addition to last night's wonderful full night of sleep, Adam is cutting his first tooth. Cutting being the appropriate word. That thing is sharp! Tuesday night he was winding down so I sat him next to me on the couch to hang out. He grabbed my hand and immediately went to chew on it and I felt the little tooth sticking out - the bottom front left one. So I gave him my bent thumb to chew on and hooked my pointer finger under his chin... which is apparently very ticklish these days. So he'd grab my thumb to chew on it, my finger would tickle his chin and he'd giggle uncontrollably, grin big, tuck his chin down to his chest and then go for my thumb again. Even after 7 or 8 attempts, it never got old. He has the sweetest giggle in the world.

It was the best night I've had in a long time.

How Far We've Come.

It's hard to believe that just 5 months ago we were putting Adam to bed in a raised crib. When you put him on the floor to play, he'd be in the same spot when you came back. He ate only breastmilk or formula and was just starting to try cereal. He didn't try move when you changed his diaper, didn't cry when we put him to bed, didn't mind just sitting around talking to mom and dad for hours...

Now we are wrestling Adam into his clothes before he squirms off. We take advantage of those moments when he sits still for a diaper change. When you open the door to his room in the morning, he's usually standing there in his crib, peeking over the side. He's so anxious to be doing something now that he CAN do something, that he fusses more now than he did when he was a newborn. And he's eating fruits, vegetables, meats, soft table food, formula, cereal, and everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, that he can get his hands on goes directly in his mouth. He was eating almost 5 ounces of formula/breastmilk 5 months ago, and now he can chug an 8 ounce bottle of formula and sometimes look for more. He has scooted a book or two in my direction and sat still in my lap to listen to me read it to him. He is pushing away things he doesn't want and sometimes pointing to the things he does.

He smiles at everything, at almost everybody. His laugh goes backwards, like a high-pitched, funny gasp for air. He leans his head back, opens his mouth wide in a big grin, and wrinkles his nose. It's like the beginning of a knee-slapping kind of laugh, like he just experienced the funniest thing EVER. It's hard to be sad or stressed in the company of a baby who 20 times a day sees the funniest thing he's ever seen in his entire life.

This weekend he made this happier-than-ever face at my dad every time he looked at him. And when Adam sat in his lap, my dad rubbed the back of his ears with his palms and Adam leaned his head back, went sleepy-eyed and sat very still. I think he had Adam sedated for about 3 minutes before Adam was off to his next project, and it's easy to tell when he's got something new and fun on his mind. He pauses, looks at me, smiles VERY big as if he just thought of the greatest plan, squeals, and takes off crawling as fast as his possibly can, doing his funny little backwards laugh. Sometimes he goes so fast his arms can't keep up and he ends up almost rolling over, face first. This speedy little burst of happiness occurs most often when he realizes the laundry room door is open, because he knows he shouldn't go in there and wants to race me to the door. He's fast, so it's usually a photo finish. Sometimes he wins.

This is also a nightly occurrence at the house when Shannon comes home from work. Adam has started to realize that when he hears the garage door open, Dad will come through that laundry room door shortly afterward. The second he hears the garage door, he crawls as fast as he can to wait by the laundry room door (which leads to the garage), and waits (next to Caley) for Dad to walk in. I'm sure Shannon loves the daily welcoming committee.

Adam prefers to do things on his own. He is happiest when he's figured something out, or gets to pick up something you "left" on the coffee table or within his grasp (my cell phone). He loves people and prefers a face-to-face conversation over any toy that he has. In fact he would socialize all day if it was possible.

In the 36 weeks and 5 days since he was born, it is amazing to think of how far he has come and how far  he will still go. He will someday walk, truly understand what I'm saying, talk to me, play with toys, know his colors, animals, numbers, the alphabet, feed himself, sleep in a "real" bed, be potty-trained, tie his shoes, go to school, learn to read . . . and so many other things that I didn't realize could possibly be "firsts." And I'm sure all of those new things will go by just as quickly as the last 8 and a half months have.

Hip X-Rays and Nexium

On Tuesday the 18th, Adam goes back to the pediatric orthopedic specialist for follow-up x-rays on his legs and hips. I'm nervous. I've been nervous about quite a bit lately, and I have no real grounds for being as nervous as I am about this appointment in particular, but I can't help it.

After Adam got the Pavlik harness off full time to treat his hip dysplasia, we got very good results at the last x-ray in October. I should probably just see this as routine, but sadly, that's not how my mind works. He has been crawling, cruising, and creeping along furniture much earlier than most babies - and of course, we are very proud. But babies' bones and joints aren't as permanent as adults... and I keep seeing him hold his left leg awkwardly just over the last 3 days. I'm hoping it's something I'm creating in my head.

As far as the spitting up/acid reflux goes, since having the swallow study and starting the super-duty antibiotics 2 and a half weeks ago (4 more days left), we've seen a huge improvement in the spitting up. He does still sometimes, but it's not the ounces per day that it once was - it's more of what I would consider normal. We tried to stop the Nexium just before the swallow study to see if it made a difference in the spitting up, and it didn't. But for those two days we didn't give him the Nexium, he woke up screaming in pain at midnight both of those nights. So yes, the Nexium is definitely working for the pain.

So when Dr. Schochet's office called to reschedule his appointment on the 28th, I told them that things were looking better and that I'd just reschedule for now and call them back if things got worse.

36 weeks old

I haven't posted pictures in a while, so I am.

This was when he wasn't feeling all that great.

Playing with his toys.

Hanging on the couch, watching the football game.

Yummmm...

Being a Ham

This is a new skill he's acquired in the last day or so.

36 weeks old today. He's hard to catch on the camera lately because he can't sit still and he moves so fast.

Distractions

Without going into too much detail, there are some things going on in my life where instead of trying to cut distractions out, I'm actually welcoming them. So I did something that is completely out of my character . . . something I really never, ever thought I would do . . . something that makes me proud and nervous all at the same time, and makes me wonder what I'm getting myself into, if anything.

I submitted a cover letter and pictures of Adam to two modeling agencies in the metroplex.

I know... what the hell, right? I felt stupid even typing the above sentence. It made me wrinkle my nose and contemplate deleting this entire post altogether.

But here is my rationalization:
1. He loves the camera, and the camera loves him.
2. He thrives in social situations and around new people.
3. He's a natural entertainer.
4. We can always back out any time.
5. If you don't try, you won't get anywhere.
6. It's not a career, this is for fun.

For those of you who are rolling your eyes and are asking yourself, "what in the world is she thinking?"

Here it is:
Hey, if they call, cool. I can see what more this involves and make more decisions as we go. If they don't call, no harm done. I'm not trying to make this a career, and if any jobs come out of it, we can see if he likes it, is good at it, and MAYBE it will finally mean something to contribute to his college fund. They probably won't even call anyway.

So, if only for his baby book, I submitted his stats:
Adam Ham
May 5, 2010
Height: 28.5 inches (approx 2' 4")
Clothes size: 12-18 months
Hair color: Blonde

Eye color: Blue

And these 4 pictures:

Don't judge me. Like I said, I need the distraction from regular life.

Not Teething?

Alright, so I guess in the back of my mind there was something fishy about those fevers Adam was having earlier this week. But he's eight months old, has no teeth yet, and was fussy and running a low-grade fever so I figured: TEETHING.

Apparently not. Or at least, that wasn't the only thing.

Yesterday the daycare called me at 2:15 to say that Adam had a rash from head-to-toe and to come get him. At 2:20 I had an appointment for 3:00, at 2:45 we were on our way to the doctor, and at 3:00 we saw Dr. Thomas (not his regular Pediatrician, but I liked her).

Not a reaction to the antibiotics, not a reaction to the Barium he ingested on Tuesday for the swallow study . . . Roseola.

We were in our driveway by 3:30, in time for me to join a conference call. Shannon took off work a little early to come help me after the appointment.

Adam's fine - just a little uncomfortable, no more fever, and the rash is about 50% gone already and we didn't even have to do anything. He was apparently contagious during the fever, but not to adults.  But I'm home from work another day while he yells at me that I'm extremely boring. Tell me about it. As the day goes on he seems to be doing pretty well, just needs lots of rest. He'll most likely go to daycare tomorrow and Shannon will try to pick him up early.

I'm a little surprised though. . .  where are his teeth? When I feel his whole bottom jaw, I can feel every molar and incisor. I have these crazy visions that they will all pop in at once.

Swallow Study

Note to self: When your child is teething it's important to make sure there is an extra set of clothes in the diaper bag before you leave the house. I had assumed, and we all know what happens when you assume.

Adam had his swallow study this morning, and we got there on time, with plenty of time to register and talk to the staff. Adam enjoyed seeing people ("Finally, Mom, we're out of the house!") and was pleased to have 5 people tell him how cute he was and how adorable his little smile is (and how fitting that he's a little "ham") before 9:30am. I even was lucky enough to time his feeding just right so he was hungry but not starving at the radiologist (I woke up at 5 am to feed him so he would be the appropriate amount of hungry for the swallow study).

But right before the study, he was squirming in his stroller so much that I pulled him out to find him soaked. Great. I asked where a bathroom was that I could change him and they pointed me in the right direction. You know those plastic pull-down changing tables that are in public facility bathrooms? Well, they are great... but extremely uncomfortable. And Adam was absolutely covered in IT. His onesie (underneath his long sleeve shirt) was drenched completely. His sweatpants were soaked. His socks didn't have a chance in Hell. And he was screaming his head off as I completely undressed him, hungry and mad, in the cold hospital bathroom. They could hear him give me the what-for all the way down the hall.

And it was one of those diapers where you just know that when you open it up it's going to be as disgusting inside as it is on the outside . . . but somehow, miraculously, he managed to go outside of his diaper but not very much in it. The diaper was tight enough, fastened correctly, and clinging to all the right places, and yet there was more on him than there was in the diaper. How does that happen??

I dug desperately in the diaper bag for extra clothes. At LEAST there had to be extra socks . . . but no. I put his long sleeve shirt back on him, which luckily survived the war, and I took him back out into the waiting area, pants-less and exhausted. He saw all the ladies and smiled his best smile, then realized he was in a very compromising position - no pants, cold, new place . . . and I think he just knew that something was about to happen. So he clung to me more tightly than I've ever seen. He still smiled, but he wasn't going to let go for anything. He didn't cry, didn't grimace, didn't whimper, just wrapped his legs around me and held on tightly. I passed him over to the therapist and he did the same to her.

We went back to do the swallow study where she had everything already prepared. He saw his bottle and started to cry for it, the doctor came in, Adam drank the formula/Barium mixture while they watched on the video, said everything was fine, and sent us on our way. Before leaving the hospital, I pulled off my sweatshirt (luckily wearing a tank top underneath) and put it on him so he would be warm enough on the way to the car.

By the time we got home he had fallen asleep in the car seat, and is asleep now in his crib, which is not surprising since he had another rough night last night. At 1 am last night he woke up upset and in pain and yelled at Shannon for a good ten minutes but couldn't be pacified - no amount of food, cuddling, diaper changes, or Tylenol could do the trick. Finally I think he passed out from exhaustion. But when he woke up this morning, he was his normal, happy self. No fever and grinning ear-to-ear.

This is good because we are shopping for a new daycare today. I gave our two weeks notice, told them that we loved the facility and staff minus the one HUGE problem, and thanked them for everything. So wish me luck finding somewhere new.

Teething

I put Adam in the family room to play alone while I work from my laptop in the kitchen, where I have a clear view of what he's doing but am out of sight enough that he can sometimes forget that I'm not immediately next to him. He's teething, so he's incredibly whiny and needy at the moment.

He's standing at the baby gate yelling at me, but since Little Einsteins is on, he's watching TV over his shoulder while screaming at me.

He's hungry but doesn't want to eat, he's tired but doesn't want to lie down, he's bored but doesn't want to play, and he wants to be held constantly. I know he doesn't feel good, and he's been running a fever over 100 degrees, even with a dose of Tylenol every 4-5 hours. Last night he even got a soak in the bath to bring it down, and I swore to myself that if it was that high today I would definitely call the doctor. He's still running a fever today, but it's much more consistent with what I would have expected with teething.

But he's still miserable, and I just couldn't drop him off at daycare. I don't like doing it when he's smiley and feeling great, why would I want to drop him off with Amy when he's miserable and has a fever? This is our last month at that daycare. I cannot stand the woman and therefore see no need to pay the money and wait it out another 4-5 months in that classroom. I don't even want to give them a chance to "fix" it. They have to know she is horrible, and since Christie left, about 80% of that classroom is full of different faces. The icing on the cake is when I went in to drop him off before Christmas and saw that Amy was "Employee of the Month." Seriously? It's not that I think she's putting him in danger - I just don't think she's providing a very stimulating or loving environment where he can learn. Plus, I simply don't like her. And I have the right to not drop my kid off there just based on that.

So I'm working from home today, and off tomorrow while I take him to the swallow study and probably search for a new daycare.

I wanted to show pictures of Adam screaming at me today, but when I whipped out the camera he started smiling immediately. I think it's pretty funny that I had to work at getting pictures of him crying.

New Year

It's amazing how we are supposed to believe that all of a sudden, life is different and new because it is January 1st. I am hopeful for 2011. I've never before wanted so much for the clock to strike midnight and feel different from one moment to the next, but alas, it's just not one of those years.

Please forgive me, I have had a rough week. The cherry on top of a rough year. Although 2010 brought the birth of my adorable, sweet first-born little boy, unfortunately he was one of the only gems of 2010. Bring on 2011.

So we ate black-eyed peas and cornbread yesterday, and I am posting some more pictures, taking a deep breath today, and getting ready for the first Monday of the year.

First Family Picture

New Year's Eve

He's just not in the mood!

Teething, but trying to give me a smile.