Hi friends! I sincerely apologize for the radio silence around here lately. Every day/week I have high hopes of making a blog post but you know. Other stuff just gets in the way…. baby, laundry, episodes of The Voice, yadda yadda yadda.
But if we’re being honest here, the real reason I haven’t posted lately is that we’ve had a difficult last few weeks. We’re not 100% sure why yet but for the past month, Crosby has been upset and crying. Like, all the time. And it’s been exhausting and defeating trying to find out why. We’ve been doing research and of course everyone has an opinion on what’s going on with him… lactation consultants have been consulted (it’s a foremilk/hindmilk imbalance!), family and friends have been questioned (it’s colic! call a chiropractor! allergies!), google has been pillaged (your baby has some incurable disease!)… and the latest diagnosis from our pediatrician is that our little dude likely has acid reflux. We’ve started him on some medication and fingers crossed that this is the answer we’ve been looking for.
Because honestly guys? It’s been really hard. Yes, it’s exhausting and frustrating and LOUD. But by far the worst part is seeing my little guy so sad and not knowing why or what I can do make him feel better. It seems unnatural that I can’t immediately figure it out and fix it for him. I guess I should get used to that feeling? Many days I feel like all I do, all day long, is attempt to stop him from crying. I keep searching for THE solution to soothe him (he likes it when you swaddle him with this blanket, hold him at a 45 degree angle, bounce at a rate of 2 up-and-downs per second, while running the vacuum cleaner, rubbing your stomach and patting your head...) but what works once never seems to work again. And even when I do manage to calm him, I get anxiety waiting for him to start crying again. Sigh. Hold me.
I learned very early on, actually during Crosby’s birth, to throw all my expectations out the window. Because things are not ever going to go the way I imagined them to. But still, it’s hard to not feel a little bummed that our baby’s second month has been so hard. Especially when I see other moms and babies who seem to have it all together. I find myself getting jealous of friends who post pictures of their happy, smiling babies on Facebook or Instagram… I envy the other moms in baby class whose little one’s lay happily on their backs without screaming bloody murder… I even resent the perfect babies on the diaper commercials who just smile and giggle up at their stupid perfect mothers. Sidenote: wouldn’t it be great if diaper commercials were realistic? Like, instead of showing a picture-perfect mother cuddling her stylish newborn on a white couch while wearing a beige sweater set, they should show a woman in her sweatpants and bra, her hair held up by a chip clip, softly singing Hall & Oates “Maneater” to her baby who is juuuust about to fall asleep inside a padded laundry basket that she’s been jiggling just so for the last 20 minutes, until her dogs bark at the mailman and then the baby wakes up, shits his pants and starts screaming. Or you know, whatever.
Where was I? Ahh yes, jealousy. I’m working on letting it go. I found a quote from Teddy Roosevelt the other day that I love, which is “comparison is the thief of joy”. Hashtag truth. I’ve been repeating it to myself lately whenever I find myself envying another parent or baby. Because I know that every single one of them has something they’re dealing with. Or will deal with. And it’s probably much much worse than what we’re working through. And even if it’s not, I shouldn’t compare our story to theirs.
So now is when I reassure you that it’s not all whomp whomp over here. Promise. The afternoons and evenings can be rough but Crosby is actually a pretty happy baby in the morning. And in between meltdowns, we’ve had a lot of fun with our chubby little guy. He actually started to smile two weeks ago. If you ever want to hear the most deranged sounds come out of a grown woman’s mouth, watch her see her baby smile for the first time. I’m pretty sure the first time I saw it, I regurgitated a foghorn… and then I burst into tears because hormones. It was pure joy. We also celebrated Casey’s 30th birthday. (!!!OLD!!) And Crosby had his very first non-family-member babysitter. (Thanks Rebecca! So sorry Crosby’s 5-day constipation streak ended on your watch…) We also just had my mom and stepdad here visiting last week, which I am HOPING to write a separate post about very soon. (At the rate I’m going, you can expect to see it here in about 3-7 months. Stay tuned.) And of course, we got to experience Crosby’s first Halloween! We kicked off the day at the doctor’s office… I’m an asshole and scheduled Crosby’s 2-month shots on Halloween morning. Apparently I couldn’t wait to expose my child to his first Halloween scare. Luckily Cros took the shots like a champ and then was alarmingly chill the rest of the day. Chill enough to wear his costume and not cry through a Halloween party at Casey’s office. I’m slightly disappointed in myself for not putting together a more creative costume for him… homemade costumes are usually my jam, but this year a $6 consignment store pumpkin suit was too perfect to pass up. Wanna see?
SO that’s what we’ve been up to lately! Here’s hoping the meds work and I’ll be back here again soon with stories of happiness, more smiles, and poop. There will always be poop.