Those Days... You Know The Ones...

I've been having Those Days lately. You know the days to which I refer. The ones you have to capitalize because they are horrible-terrible-no-good-very-bad types. No good really isn't true, because as crazy as things get, Ben just wafts happiness and light and fresh-baked cookie smell. Well, aside from the times he wafts teething and spit up smell. Moments, really. I continue to smell like vomit but he goes back to being impossibly adorable.

I digress. So, lately, here has been my schedule: wake up from a deep, deep sleep around 4:30 or 5am and lay there, either arguing with someone I've made up, or just dealing with the chest pounding hangover I got from a really bad nightmare. This morning I was being chased, trying to call the police. Called them, hung up. Relief. Followed by the head-smacking realization that I didn't tell them where I was. Thankfully I woke up before I had to figure out how to get back to the phone. Scott was so engrossed by this turn of events that he kept his eyes closed and patted me nicely on the arm as I told him the whole shocking tale. Maybe it will sink in after his morning meeting and he will call me: "Darling, you poor thing!" No, just kidding, he doesn't call me darling, that would be weird.

So, attempting to learn from yesterday's hour-long argument with nobody, this morning I just got up and took a shower. I gave the baby a bottle in his crib, and then let him play in there for an hour while I made breakfast, and coffee, and read my blogs. They do not bring me important world news (thankfully) but they make me feel less insane. A laugh after a breathless middle-of-the-night run is good medicine.

How perfect are little baby feet? Ugh I never want to forget how round and fat they are! Love them.

We are out of food. To be more accurate, we are bored with the canned food we have at the bottom of the barrel. Bad, bad. Anyway, to prevent a take-out night, the other day I scooped Ben up on an impulse and tried to fit in a run to the store... I put him in a cart, picked up a nice looking plant, and checked my phone to see that my friend was on her way over. Darnit. Put down the plant, put the cart away and carried a puzzled looking Ben back to the car. This was the kind of day it was. I've been thinking of that little plant (and how nice it may someday look in the living room) ever since. Oh and Scott got this text: "i love YOU! wait til i tell u my hilarious trip to TJs! i got one potted plant, put it back, and drove home. wanna pick up dinner? lol" This is how take-out won and I was thwarted.

Oh and we are down to our last Snappi. Let me illustrate:

It's that thing that holds the diaper on. It works like one of those clips you put on an ace bandage? With the little teeth? It's kind of stretchy and it's genius trifecta thing keeps the diaper tightly squeezed onto Mr. Squirmy's little behind. Well, it broke. That little skinny handle part. Diapering a child trying to learn how to crawl is hard enough, I tell you. Trying to pinch some little tab because the handle is missing- it's too much. Especially if you haven't made coffee yet. So yesterday, Ben had pooped his usual quota amount for the day, and I thought- forget it. I'll just lay the diaper in the waterproof shell and he can pee in it to his heart's content for the next hour and a half.

I know, it's like a horror flick where the blonde chick just has to go downstairs to see what that noise was.

Soooo.... poop disaster. Soft, explosion type stuff. Ben is trying to cut his fifth tooth. I can see it up there, on top, on his left side, right next door to the front two, which are already huge. It's juuuuustthisclose to the skin and has to be absolutely killing him. So he is not a big fan of the diaper changes at the moment and is kicking and screaming. The minute I open up the disaster zone, he sticks an entire socky heel into the thing and as I'm trying to grab it, flailing about in the air, my hand gets streaked, and he manages to paint up his other leg, in under one friggin' second. After some strong, firm, OhmyGods and StopIts, I manage to get the diaper into the pail, the shell and the sock quarantined and a new diaper (with broken Snappi thankyou) onto this writhing little butt all without bringing harm to either the other sock or the changing pad cover. Olympic gold medalist? I believe so, yes.

Further reasons that it has been a couple of Those Days: if there is a cap that belongs on something, it needs to fall on the floor three times first. If I need to hide some laundry upstairs, Ben instantly becomes afraid of the Roomba and must be carried as well. I always somehow think this will work until half of the nice, neatly folded laundry does not make it all the way to point B but instead remains strewn across the stairs. The zipper on my pants has one broken tooth. At the bottom. Once you're past it, you're fine. It just takes about three beats too long to get past it, every single time I run to the bathroom. No biggie. Just chippin away at my sanity. After I took that headstart shower this morning, Ben's first order of business was to puke on my sweatered arm. Which I thought would be fine but now the smell is getting to me. Ugh. Sweater #2 on the way. Over breakfast, he puked again (???) right onto the table. Scott got this text message: "throw up is more fun than cheerios. says your son."

However, this kid could not be any more fabulous, even if he pooped and puked less often. As much as I get excited about someday having more, just having him feels like a puzzle piece found and in place. It's more than enough for now, just the way things are. I know from experience that I need to get a headstart or I will never get a chance to put on clothes and deodorant. But most mornings I just want to watch him wake up, scoop him up and take him to bed with me, where we can lay forehead to forehead, nose to nose. Where I can hear his loud little breaths and hold his little hands and kiss that spot right next to his tiny mouth. Watching him splash around at swim lessons, stare open-mouthed at the cats, and obsess over his cardboard airplane, is non-stop entertainment. He started scooting backwards last night and Scott and I just watched, riveted, giggling like crazy people.

He's trying so hard to talk. He's trying so hard to pull up and sit down (without falling on his melon and crying). He's trying so hard to crawl. He's obsessed with grown up food and literally yelled at his auntie for not sharing her fries last week. You should have seen it, the boy does not need words to communicate, just some grunt/scream hybrid noise and a withering look. Maybe some clenched fists thrown in for emphasis.

He's my baby, which is just a crazy dream come true. I honestly just want him to freeze right here and just be a baby for about a year more. I will probably feel like that next month, and the month after that. I would want him and love him no matter what, but I still try to stop and absorb that he is healthy, energetic, curious, and learning everything with no problems whatsoever. How crazy is that? I ache for the medical trials other families are going through right now. Nothing stays perfect forever, but this has been a blessing, and I recognize how huge it is. Every normal, drop-that-thing-three-friggin-times day that goes by, I appreciate it for what it is. Living the dream. Living the Good Life. 

Ben is Two Months!

And I love using cloth diapers. Disposables are fine, too, I have nothing against them. They are easy, trim and quick. But I get a very accomplished feeling knowing how much less waste I have made for the earth, and putting soft cloth against my baby's skin- I gotta say- that feels great, too. Plus, what a community there is out there! So much support and fun things to try and discuss. I feel like a modern mama. We now have 14 Bum Geniuses, which I use for night time diapers, and I have learned how to wash them myself, which is a laugh because it is so easy. (Cold rinse, add detergent, hot wash, hang dry. Put absorbent inserts into the dryer on low). When he starts solids I will have to spray them off into the toilet before throwing them into the washer. Either that, or I can lay a liner in the diaper, and peel that off into the toilet. That will be a little more smelly. Right now, its a breeze. Thank you, breast milk! We still use prefolds and covers through our service, Central Coast Diaper Service. See all the details on life with prefolds in my previous blog, (LLCool B, Ladies Love Cool Ben).

So Ben is now batting at his toys, cooing and squealing, kicking his legs more and he can see so much more. I catch him noticing things further and further away, like the television. So exciting. His preferences have changed, from the swing to the bouncer. He sleeps pretty well, still waking up about twice a night, but he sleeps pretty consistently from 7p to 12:30a at least. It takes me about an hour to feed, change and put him back to sleep. I just Netflix-ed "Happiest Baby On the Block". Kris recommended it because she loved the toddler version- it was fantastic! I had heard some of the techniques in our Baby Basics class, but somehow seeing him demonstrate it on infant after infant just clicked. I immediately tried them and it worked just like in the video! Incredible. This is going to make my life so much easier.

Ladies Love Cool Ben (LL Cool B)

Yesterday we went around the corner to a new friend's house and had lunch and a playdate! It was great. Ben was very happy for most of the afternoon, and it was so neat to see all the babies together, all around the same age. The girls patted his head and face and wrapped their arms around his arms and he was fine with it. He looked a little surprised every time he got a little hand to the face, but he just hung out. He reminded me a lot of how Scott used to run his game. He would stand aside, by himself, quietly scanning the room, and somehow a girl or two would just start talking to him. He wouldn't even look surprised. What I call antisocial, he calls "technique". Apparently it is handed down genetically. Also genetic: Scott's inner heater. We all sat around in pants and t-shirts, and Ben fussed his way all the way down to a diaper before he was finally happy. Like his Dad, he just wants to lounge around with his shirt off, otherwise he overheats. I find it extremely amusing (except during the time it takes me to figure out what the problem is).

He loved all of Elana's stuff (she is on the left) and Cindy (her mama) is even using the same cloth diaper service that we are. We gabbed about how much we love the service (Central Coast Diaper Service) and the lady that runs it (Monica). So now that we have been using cloth for almost two months (even on one road trip) I thought I would do a little blog about how we do cloth. Be-caaaaause, there are a ton of ways to do it. It can actually be insanely overwhelming. We do the easiest, most straightforward version and I was so intimidated when Monica came to do a demo! She even looked at me like, "are you gonna be okay?" I must have gone pale a little when she showed me how to fold them.

Okay, so- she drops off a big bag of prefolds on Thursday. Squares of fluffy white cotton. Altogether we pay for 70 a week ($20), but some of them are at our house and some of them getting cleaned. So, while I am watching TV, I fold them, usually a day or even two later. Its no rush we have plenty of diapers. Scott will do it, too. Whoever has the time and finds two hands free in the living room. It goes really fast, actually, I thought it would be more time consuming but its really not.

Road = 1.... Me = 0

Ya... so that didn't go as well as I'd hoped. Main problems?

1. Since I was alone, I had to travel during the day, when Ben eats the most often.
2. It takes me about 30 minutes to feed him. Add in a diaper change and trip to the bathroom, and thats about an hour per stop. Counting from the beginning of each feeding, that means an hour until we have to stop again to eat.
3. If you do the math from the first two, you can understand why a 3 hour trip took us 6. Each way. Well, toward the end, the kid just didn't want to be stuck strapped to that seat anymore. Can't say I blame him.

Positives:

1. Cloth diapers rock and were very easy. Just as easy as the disposables, except bigger of course.
2. When we did stop, Ben was so cooperative with my learning curve. He was wonderful while I stood in lines and put him into awkward positions to change his diaper.
3. Once my sister arrived, the relief was immediate. I went from utter exhaustion to feeling like I could finish the day after all.

On the way down, he was great. He slept for the first hour and a half, I stopped to feed and change him, and everything went off without a hitch. We got all the way down into LA, with him sound asleep. And right as the 405 was meeting the 101, in like 7 lanes of stop and go traffic, I think to myself- this would be the one place where it would be super hard to pull over- and pow!
Ben starts wailing like someone stuck him with a pin. Completely out of nowhere, just working his lungs for all he is worth! I reach back with one hand and pet his head, singing loudly. I am trying to figure out how to get off the freeway (to go where?) and a CHP officer pulls up just to my right, so I have to be extra careful. I somehow get off the freeway, with Ben still screaming, higher and louder than I thought possible. Immediately off the exit I peel into a carwash that I happen to catch sight of.
I park awkwardly off to the side, jump in the back and lock all the doors. As I am bouncing and rocking Ben, (when I still can't calm him, I lay him on my lap and whip off his diaper, putting on a clean one) I am looking around at where we are. It starts to rain, and a burrito truck pulls up near me. A van pulls in and parks right to my left. It looks like they are in line for the car wash, but there is no one in there, since of course, its raining. I am just praying that nobody approaches my car.
Finally Ben quiets and looks tired and peaceful. I set him in the car seat and pull the straps around him. One piece just will not line up and fit into the other. It appears as if it has been put on backwards. But I just got him out of the seat! I figured I must be frazzled from the screaming. I take a deep breath, and try again. And again. And again! Finally there seems to be no other option but to fold the strap in half and try to twist this piece around. By this time Ben's patience is wearing thin. I laugh to myself and tell him, "Someday, kid, I am going to tell you about this trip, and you will laugh. And hopefully so will I". It takes me two hands to muscle the buckle. How did it get flipped? I will never know.
Once we arrive he is extremely cranky. I feed him, but he cannot settle down. He has been fussy anyway, and he really put on a show for Nana. She can't hear well, so every time I would have to answer a question, he would startle and get upset again. She also asked repeatedly if there was something wrong. I explained that he is a little bit fussy in the afternoons, that he just has a little colic, nothing to be concerned about. It was draining. By the evening I could feel my face had fallen, I could barely hold my eyes open. Then Stephanie arrived! Ah what a relief.

Then things were calmer, and easier. Ben was still fussy, but I went upstairs to change and feed him, like we do at home, just the two of us, and that quieted him down quite a bit. He was content to play in his carseat, with ribbons that Nana tied to the top. He loved them and stared and batted at them for hours. We took Ben over to the neighbor's house, where Nana has an evening "Happy Hour" every night in the garage. Her friends oohed and aahed and she got to show him off with bright pride. It was worth it. Barely worth it- but still. She is eighty-nine in just some days and who knows how much time with her we have left. I took out the video camera, and walked through the house, documenting as well as I could the accomplishments and precious belongings that hung on the walls. I want us all to remember that house. They built a beautiful life together, my grandparents. They valued hard work, community service, family and history. I hope those values pass down to the generations that follow them.
I planned to leave early, after Ben's first feeding. Getting everything together had me staying up a little later than usual, after finally getting Ben to sleep. He woke up at 5:30 to eat, and I was feeling pretty well organized, when he blew out his diaper in the middle of his meal! I had to stop everything, change him completely, rinse out his diaper cover and finish feeding him, which added on some extra time. And, poop got all over the breastfeeding pillow, too, so I had to clean that off. We finally left at 7am, which put us right in the middle of rush hour. But what was I going to do? I had to get on the road, we weren't going to get home any sooner sitting around. It took us three hours to get out of the LA area, with two planned stops to change and eat. He eventually threw a fit near Goleta and I had to pull over and comfort him. When he had calmed down, we pulled back out on the road, and five minutes later he was screaming again. We were a little over an hour from home, and what he clearly wanted was to be there, so I had to keep on. It was heartbreaking to listen to him scream, although I stroked his temples and sang to him as loudly as I could. It was quite awhile but he cried himself to sleep. I nearly cried, too.
We made it home and I was beat down. I emptied what I could and laid down with him, and when Scott got home he finished unloading the car, and took care of him so I could take a long shower. That pretty much fixed all that needed to be fixed. But definitely next time, we will have to make some changes, although I think it will still be really hard. We will try to travel when he is about to go down to sleep, around seven, because thats when he sleeps the longest. I am considering how I can carry a bottle or two of breastmilk with us. Other than that, lots of prayer, I guess!

Ben's First Bath

See his cloth diaper? Its a classic white cloth, just like you would imagine, and its folded under this waterproof cover that works like a disposable, with elastic and velcro and all that. With the diaper service, its a breeze, we just take out the cloth, toss it in the diaper pail, and put another one into the cover. There is no smell from the pail yet, the cat box is way worse! Its really much easier than I even dreamed. 

 OH! Fun times last night. So we don't have any counter space in the bathrooms, so we brought his cute little whale tub down into the kitchen. Grandma and Grandpa are here, and Grandma helped me with the water temperature. Scott held him until we were ready and we plopped him in! He didn't cry for one second, even being lowered in. He seemed to love the water, just looking around at us and I just folded him up in the wet towel and kept squeezing water over his tummy. Let me tell you, he was a happy kid!

Well, then after lots of fun pictures and rubbing down his hair, we took him out. I handed him to Grandma who folded him up in a dry towel, and we were kinda talking to him, and he peed all over her and onto the floor! We laughed and she handed him to me so she could get cleaned up. Just as I was saying that we could simply wipe him down when we put his diaper back on, he lets out this huge fart and poops all over! Well, we ran out of clean towels! So while we sent someone to get a new one, we plopped Ben back in the bath (still completely happy- and no wonder) and we laughed about what we were going to do and how at least he had done his business. Just then, as if to prove a point, he casually spits up into the water. We couldn't stop laughing for like five straight minutes!! Eventually we got him (and ourselves) all cleaned up and he didn't argue about any of it until we started putting his diaper back on. What a relaxed little guy he is. As long as he is fed, he is up for anything.