Wetness

I just have to note that this is the grossest period of Judah's life so far.

I realize now that poop and pee I have no problem with.

But what totally grosses me out is drool and snot--which, sadly, oozes out of Judah in abundance.  The boy does not seem capable of keeping his saliva in his mouth.  When he gets excited, when he's talking, when he's eating, frankly, anytime of the day, large puddles of drool form below him.

And the snot.  The endless snot.  Ever flowing and getting wiped all over his crusty face.  And to make matters worse, Judah's really into picking his nose now.  At all times of the day the boy is busy digging for gold.

It's gotten so bad I actually reflexively recoil when he wants to hug me.  I'll make a mad dash for the nearest paper towel, wipe down his face, and then give him a hug.  And even then I usually end up with some giant wet spot on my shirt, or God forbid, on my arm if I'm wearing something sleeveless.  Eeeeeeew.

But Noah doesn't seem to mind.  Shortly after this picture was taken I saw a long string of drool travel from Judah's mouth down to Noah's hair.

I really can't explain this.

I was horrified but Noah was all, eh, no big deal.

Another reason why babies are awesome.

The Not-so-well Checkup

Recently we went to the peds for Noah's 3 month well-check.

Turns out he's the same percentile as his 2 month self--16 lbs (95th) in weight, 25 inches (75-90th) in height, and 40 inches (50th) in head circumference.

Judah tagged along and felt like a very big-boy helper. I guess he's at that stage where he wants to "help" with everything.  Half the things he says now is "I can help you!"

He especially wanted to make sure he was there to comfort Noah when it was time for shots. But when the big moment came Judah folded like a cheap suit in pain and sympathy, awwwwww.  I ended up having to comfort Judah who was much more shell-shocked than Noah.

Two babies crying from shots--one of them vicariously.

My most pressing question for the doc was--why is Noah's nose so stuffed? The last week and a half have been so torturous with no end in sight. The doctor said it was probably back to back colds compounded by unusually small nasal passages. If the problem doesn't get better in two weeks we could get an x-ray if we wanted.

This was not the answer I hoped for (wait and see, nothing to do) so I got a second opinion from the urgent care doctor, who basically told me the same thing again.

Meanwhile I've been referring to Noah as the little buzz-saw or baby Darth Vader. Either way, it kinda sucks.

Weeks 12, 13 and 14

Wow, I've really fallen off the blogging wagon (which is ironic because I actually have a ton of thoughts I want to blog about--mom guilt, being a stay-at-home mom, how totally incompetent I feel everyday, etc.)

Okay, time to get back on it with new resolve--more blog entries from now on!

Anyway, here's the monster recap of the last 3 weeks:

Week 12--Got depressed because of my lack of social interaction.  Staying home with the baby all day is beyond boring but he's still too fussy and unpredictable to take out on an outing.

I rock the tummy-time head and chest lift.  Check it out ladies.

Week 13--Got depressed because Noah suddenly got crazy congested and couldn't breathe (and the congestion is so deep in his nose that there's no snot to suck out).  I didn't think he had a cold since he had no other symptoms and as I mentioned in my previous post, I've been catching ALL the germs from Judah so Noah should be immune.  Anyway, no breathing from baby means really poor nursing, which means plugged ducts and the imminent threat of mastitis.  AND really poor sleeping, for him and me.  UGH.

I was looking forward to discussing Noah's nose at his next dr's visit but then I lost track of the time and missed the appointment.  That was the final straw.  I bawled my eyes out and cursed to the heavens.

I may look calm but I seriously can't breathe!

Week 14--Noah is still congested.  I've been continuing his nap training (i.e., letting him cry and cry and cry and try to figure out how to nap in his crib without any human assistance) and see only the slightest signs of improvement.  He still cries like crazy for long periods and it still makes me want to shrivel up and die for every minute of his crying.

Noah being comforted by dad after another bad nap-training session.  He fought the mattress...and lost.

So there you have it--the trifecta of mommy misery--social isolation, nap-training, and bad congestion.

But, nevertheless, there are such amazingly sweet moments as Noah blossoms socially.  It's impossible to describe how intoxicating his little smiles and giggles are--I seriously daydream about them as I drift off to sleep.

For all the clouds and shadows, for all the blues and bruises, and head-achy tired days, things are definitely getting better as Noah gets older.  I mean, they have to, right?

Catching Microscopic Live Grenades

I have been a germaphobe all my life.

There's nothing I hate more than being/getting sick.

Yes, I'm that crazy lady that touches door handles only with my sweater pulled over my hands.  And I punch elevator buttons with the tip of my pinky.  And I wince when I have to use 'public' pens, like at the doctor's office, and I will hold the pen awkwardly at the highest possible point because that's where most people won't touch it.

But now, because I have a toddler that goes to daycare (read: cesspool of human decay and all unholy things), I run toward germs (i.e., my toddler) like someone catching a live grenade.

As soon as Judah comes home, I rush over to him and try to get him to kiss me full on the lips.  Mmmmm, love the taste of germy germs.  Sorry, Judah, it's not cuz mommy loves you so much as it's mommy trying ON PURPOSE to catch your germs.

Why?

Because I'm desperately trying to protect Noah from getting sick.  Hopefully my body will make the requisite antibodies and Noah will be the beneficiary of them through my breast milk--mother nature's ingenious way of protecting helpless little infants.

When Noah was just 6 weeks old he caught a bug from Judah and life was miserable for about 2 weeks.  Noah couldn't breathe (and therefore could barely nurse) and yet needed to nurse more frequently for comfort and fluids.  Argh.

All this to say, yet another reason why motherhood sucks.  I will be running to catch every god-forsaken disease my toddler brings home for at least another few months.  And, BONUS, I can't take any comforting medication to ease my horrible symptoms for fear of it passing through my breast milk.

Oy vey.

Weeks 10 and 11

The bane of my existence is Noah's naps.

The guy seems to want to sleep all the time, BUT he will only sleep if you're holding him and rocking/bouncing him.

I've been doing some nap-training but Noah doesn't seem to get the message.  I'll put him down in the crib drowsy but awake and he'll cry for about 7 minutes and then I'll think, wonderful, he's finally sleeping.  But every 20 minutes, like clockwork, he wakes up and cries bloody murder anywhere from 8-30 minutes (he could probably cry longer if I left him in there longer).

Dr. Evil could not devise a more painful torture than NOT napping.

This has been going on for weeks now and I'm at my wits' end.  Not to mention my last nerve.  I don't think there's any worse sound than to hear your baby crying and wailing interminably.  I swear I would go through labor all over again, if only that would guarantee he could be an easy napper.  Nap training is THAT painful.

You're cute and all but you suck at napping.

So naturally, the question arises--if nap training is that abysmal, why not just hold him for his naps?  I totally would, but he has rejected all 'easy' methods of holding.  I used to be able to pop him in the ergo carrier and bounce him to sweet oblivion, but just last week he's completely rejected it!  It seems Noah has rejected all forms of holding EXCEPT the most energy-intensive--straight up holding in your arms and bouncing on the ball.  Sorry kid, but you're nearly 15 pounds.  There is no way I'm going to do this for 90 minutes, 4 times a day.

Big and beautiful--with a small side of butt rash.

My one hope and consolation is that Noah will finally learn to self-soothe better after 12 weeks.  All the baby books seem to say that the post-3 month period is a magical time for baby development.  Well, it better be cuz...I don't even want to think about the alternative.

To be fair, Noah really is a very happy, easy-going baby when he's not cranky tired from being unable to nap.  If only we can get the nap-thing down, I can finally get him on a routine and meet other stay-at-home moms.  I'm starting to get that really sad, isolated, lonely, bored, itchy feeling now that I've basically been staying home all day with a baby for nearly 3 months.

I love my pudgy peanut...most of the time.

But not all things are gloom and doom here.  I am enjoying Noah's emerging baby smiles and "conversations."  It's so fun as he wakes up from his sleepy newborn phase.  I love when our eyes lock and we smile and giggle at each other--ahhhhhhhh such sweet, total and utter bliss.