Three's Company

Can't believe we've made it two months. Half of me can't believe we've come this far this fast, and the other half feels as if I should be wiping tears of joy as Harrison crosses the stage in his cap and gown. 

As any parent of the newborn variety knows, it ain't easy, and boy has it taken it's toll on our lives in general. All I can pray for is that it's painless for him. I mean, he looks pretty comfortable...well except for today during his two month immunizations.  HONESTLY, why didn't someone prepare me for the look of horror that I can only describe as his "WTF WAS THAT???!!!" face, followed by screaming only to become limp and lifeless in my arms as if to say, "Mommy, take the pain...... away!!!!  Oh, the horror!!!"  Needless to say, we survived. Weighing in at a bountiful 8 pounds 4 ounces, he has managed to zip right off of the preemie charts and onto the term baby charts. Granted, he's only in the 3rd percentile for weight and height, but hell, I'll take it. His head on the other hand is in the 35th percentile, enough to qualify him as Harold and the Purple Crayon's replacement.  Or Stewie's, depending which cartoon suits you.

I've broken the last several weeks down into subjects as I've learned that life with a new baby is about different chunks of day. Bite off only what you can chew, but plan on biting quite a large chunk. And chew hard. And floss afterwards.

NIGHTTIME:

God bless Tony. There are times in the night that I don't even know I'm still alive, and he'll take care of the baby knowing full well it isn't his "turn".  And he does it quietly. If it were me, I'd be banging around like a Riverdancing Elephant just to make it known I was handling his business.  I'd like to think it's the hormones that are making me vicious. :) I knew the sleepless nights were getting to me when I microwaved an empty pyrex.  We usually fill the pyrex with water, microwave it, then set the bottle in there to warm up.  I stood there for at least three minutes wondering why the bottle wasn't getting warm.  And just when things were getting deliriously out of hand, Harrison started sleeping five hour stretches at night. This lasted long enough to rid me of the ridiculous sleep deprivation induced dreams I was having.  Some examples?  Tony leaving the baby on the floor with 19 dogs during a party, my dad's lips falling off, and most recently, me climbing a tree to meet with a squirrel for one of "our talks".  Yes folks, it is time to pop the Ambien and call it a night...or a week...whatever it takes.  But alas, we cannot. Especially since the five hour stretches have ceased and he's back to his two week old ways again.  We must pull through.  The good news is that there's a Roseanne marathon during my shift, so there's time for me to watch some dysfunction that doesn't relate to the questioning of my own parenthood. It is frustrating, however, to sit down, position the Boppy, tuck the burp cloth under his now very fatty chin, pin down his hands since he likes to do Kung Fu dining, get the bottle aimed directly in his overly rooting mouth where his head flops side to side like Shamu's best air maneuver, and then realize that the remote is in the kitchen and I'm stuck watching Sports Center from Tony's previous shift. Sh*t.

FEEDING (A REFLUX BABY)

So we've overcome the incessant screaming during eating, which was heart wrenching. We've loaded him up on Prevacid and it seems to do the trick.  Well, by "the trick" I mean eliminates the crying.  I'll be sitting there in a half coma listening to the rhythmic pattern of his cute little grunt-swallow-grunt-swallow eating, and PHHHHHTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!! There comes the force of air that could power a hot air balloon and I am suddenly soaked with formula, which smells like rotting milk before it ever rots. Realizing then this might be a sign that he needs to burp, I place him lovingly on my welcoming shoulder, kiss his cute little cheek, and BLECH!! He turns his mouth just in time to feed me his Similac - bird style. Delicious. When can they start solid foods??

INTIMACY

Hahahahahaha. Shut your mouth.

TRAVELING

So, in an attempt to be the vigilant mother that I want to be, I purchased a backseat mirror so I can watch my boy's every move while on the road. Excuse me, WHAT IDIOT came up with this shenanigan? I have been so enraptured watching the kid sleep that I have slammed my breaks a dozen times saving us from driving up a semi's ass. Then, and tell me if you've done this, I look in the mirror, and am not satisfied with what I see, so I turn my body entirely around to look at the mirror head on. Yep, still sleeping. I'm considering installing one of those privacy windows like in a limousine.  Seriously, like I'm going to look back there and see Harrison flashing me the jazz hands.  At this rate, I'm more likely to see him shoot me the finger.

WORRY

A natural born worrier, I never thought I had time to worry more. But I do. How on earth can I worry about such simple things? Oh my God, his eyes are crossed. Oh my God, he hasn't pooped.  Oh my God, he's crying. Oh my God, is he breathing? Oh thank God, he's breathing. It doesn't help the situation that he's a preemie and he might face some obstacles in development over the next year, so pair that "extra" worry with "natural" worry, and you are in serious need of Botox. A whole case of it. Tony does a good job of attempting to keep me calm, but he remains defeated. I do my best to keep a level head, and I know the worrying won't stop, but maybe there's a 12 step program I can join to help manage the insanity? My latest worry, (and he'll kill me when he's a teenager for sharing this with you) is that one of his testicles retracted. WHAT?? You might as well have told me that one of his eyeballs retracted, or an arm, or a foot. It's that serious to me! I'm sure some of you can say you know someone with that experience, and I'm sure the problem will correct itself, but seriously?? As if I have time to worry whether or not my boy will spend his life as a Eunuch.  A little dramatic, I know, but hey, it's me. Everybody, please pray for my son's testicle.

So, that concludes the experiences over the last month. Could've been more dramatic, could've been less. Either way, we're adapting to parenthood as best we know how. The Lord has blessed us with a wonderful little boy who shows us miracles everyday.  I love watching our little man grow and change, and I can't wait for those milestones to start, so the gallstones can stop. Be assured I will record every last beautiful moment with him to share with you....as long as they don't happen in the back seat mirror of my car.