So, remember how, like, three days ago I was lamenting over this whole 'not pregnant again yet' phase of my life? Well, I whined; God laughed.
This weekend has been one of our roughest. Oliver is simultaneously cutting at least two, and possibly all four (he won't let me near his mouth to look), molars. This kid who I'm always bragging about being an easy teether has been MISERABLE for the past 48 hours. I'm not generally a temperature-taking kind of mom. He's either hot, or hes not, and as long as he's not showing any other signs of illness, I don't really sweat the particulars. But Saturday night he was so hot his hands on my skin were uncomfortable, so I pulled out the thermometer. Nearly 103. It was better Sunday, but not by much. He cried when I dropped him off at church (which has not only never happened before, but usually he is reaching for the teacher and blowing me kisses goodbye before I can even get his name tag on), when Derek went to pick him up just over an hour later, he was walking the halls with a childcare worker because they couldn't get him to calm down. He's nursing ALL the time, and Saturday refused to eat any solid food at all - Sunday was better on that front. HE hasn't slept more than 30 minutes at a time during the past 3 days and has been spending most of the night in our bed attached to my boob. We've been alternating between baby and mama meltdowns and between the nursing and the kicking and the fact that his body is a furnace next to mine, I've barely slept in days. My house is a mess because I have neither the energy nor the motivation to wash dishes and vacuum floors. All I can think is thank GOD I'm not dealing with pregnancy fatigue on top of everything else. So...yeah.
He seems better today. His feet were actually COLD this morning, and he woke up full of smiles and giggles. Which is good because I have about 6 hours of business paperwork to get done today so he's gonna have to deal with spending most of the day in the carrier on my back (I finally found a carrier I can use on my back without pain and it could not have been better timing. It has been our saving grace this weekend). But there are no new teeth in his mouth, so I have the sneaking suspicion we're not done yet.
My beautiful husband got up this morning and made a pot of coffee. Because he's the greatest. I'm on cup three already.
I love being a mom. Some weeks are more challenging than others. But it's totally worth it. Plus, I have a legitimate excuse now for letting the housework slide. ;)
In completely unrelated news - We packed up all the 12 month clothing today. Oliver is 32 inches and 21.5 pounds. 97th percentile in height, 50th in weight (he's gained less than 2 pounds in the past 4 months). Which means hes too tall for 12 month clothing, but 18 month stuff fits him like a tent. Long and lean like his daddy. That definitely doesn't come from my side of the gene pool. =P
This weekend has been one of our roughest. Oliver is simultaneously cutting at least two, and possibly all four (he won't let me near his mouth to look), molars. This kid who I'm always bragging about being an easy teether has been MISERABLE for the past 48 hours. I'm not generally a temperature-taking kind of mom. He's either hot, or hes not, and as long as he's not showing any other signs of illness, I don't really sweat the particulars. But Saturday night he was so hot his hands on my skin were uncomfortable, so I pulled out the thermometer. Nearly 103. It was better Sunday, but not by much. He cried when I dropped him off at church (which has not only never happened before, but usually he is reaching for the teacher and blowing me kisses goodbye before I can even get his name tag on), when Derek went to pick him up just over an hour later, he was walking the halls with a childcare worker because they couldn't get him to calm down. He's nursing ALL the time, and Saturday refused to eat any solid food at all - Sunday was better on that front. HE hasn't slept more than 30 minutes at a time during the past 3 days and has been spending most of the night in our bed attached to my boob. We've been alternating between baby and mama meltdowns and between the nursing and the kicking and the fact that his body is a furnace next to mine, I've barely slept in days. My house is a mess because I have neither the energy nor the motivation to wash dishes and vacuum floors. All I can think is thank GOD I'm not dealing with pregnancy fatigue on top of everything else. So...yeah.
He seems better today. His feet were actually COLD this morning, and he woke up full of smiles and giggles. Which is good because I have about 6 hours of business paperwork to get done today so he's gonna have to deal with spending most of the day in the carrier on my back (I finally found a carrier I can use on my back without pain and it could not have been better timing. It has been our saving grace this weekend). But there are no new teeth in his mouth, so I have the sneaking suspicion we're not done yet.
My beautiful husband got up this morning and made a pot of coffee. Because he's the greatest. I'm on cup three already.
I love being a mom. Some weeks are more challenging than others. But it's totally worth it. Plus, I have a legitimate excuse now for letting the housework slide. ;)
In completely unrelated news - We packed up all the 12 month clothing today. Oliver is 32 inches and 21.5 pounds. 97th percentile in height, 50th in weight (he's gained less than 2 pounds in the past 4 months). Which means hes too tall for 12 month clothing, but 18 month stuff fits him like a tent. Long and lean like his daddy. That definitely doesn't come from my side of the gene pool. =P
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