Or why my baby is like a raging alcoholic...
So, my little one is now 5-1/2 weeks old. And he's already got a drinking problem. Here are the telltale signs I've noticed:
1. When he partakes, there's a very fine line between having just enough and imbibing more than he can handle.
2. When he drinks not enough, he gets mean and violent - thrashing around, scratching me, and howling and grunting like a maniac. Nothing can sate him except more drink. He will stop at nothing until he gets what he wants.
3. When he drinks just the right amount, he's very giddy and has a tendency to subsequently pass out.
4. When he drinks too much, he throws it back up - sometimes just once and then he feels better. But sometimes, it can be hours of misery and mess. Drinking too much also makes him cry.
5. Drinking makes him very gassy - he belches like a sailor. The gas also makes him weepy and/or mean.
6. I tried to tell him he has a problem and he ignores me, acting as though he can't hear or understand me.
7. His addiction has affected his life and the lives of those around him. It has even affected my and his father's careers.
8. He prefers to drink in private. When he wants to drink in public, I sometimes enable him by hiding it.
9. There are half-empty bottles all over the house.
10. He has trouble staying awake during the day. And sometimes he has trouble falling asleep at night.
Ok... So he's only addicted to breast milk & formula right now. But the patterns of addiction are there, I tell ya! I'm going to be keeping a close eye on him!
2011-06-08
2011-05-18
"Breathtaking"
There's an episode of Seinfeld, where all the main characters go to visit one of Jerry and Elaine's friends who recently had a baby. While there, Elaine meets a handsome, single pediatrician who calls both her and the baby (who apparently isn't that great-looking), "breathtaking." This, of course, miffs Elaine because it undermines what she thought was a deep compliment from a potential suitor.
I preface this post with this tidbit because the word "breathtaking", especially in regards to babies, now has new meaning to me too. For those of you who don't know already, I had my baby the other day. He was a little early, but considered full-term - and he's doing great. We just went to see the pediatrician for a second visit today, and he gained twice as much weight as was expected of him over the past week, and is now back in the 50th percentile - where he was for most of the pregnancy.
(Sidebar: Interestingly enough, I always thought I would want my baby to be the best and biggest and strongest, but after the dramatic start this baby had - I am over the moon at average-ness and middle-of-the-road health stats.)
Apparently, newborns like to hold their breath. Like, they LOVE to hold their breath. They do it when they're eating, pooping, sleeping... and, well, since that's pretty much all they do - that's pretty much all the time. This breath-holding is quite alarming to new parents, understandably.
My baby held his breath for four-and-a-half minutes at birth. You can imagine the "alarm" this caused me and my husband. Although I'm pretty sure I didn't hold my breath that entire time - the ordeal definitely took a lot of my breath away. Those 275 seconds are now easily the worst 275 seconds of my life thus far. You can imagine all the things that race through your mind... Or maybe you cant imagine. Either way, I wouldn't wish this experience on anyone else. Just take my word for it. If you're really curious, try sitting quietly and still for four-and-a-half minutes. As the time ticks by, imagine that the whole rest of your life is in limbo during this time. People say your life can change in a second. Actually, it takes longer - and each second seems like an eternity.
That's why when people describe my baby as "breathtaking" now, it has a different meaning to me than it probably does to them. Not that the word has a bad connotation or anything like that. Just a deeper meaning than the user may intend. Yeah, I know my baby's good looking... But did you know he's life-changing as well?
I preface this post with this tidbit because the word "breathtaking", especially in regards to babies, now has new meaning to me too. For those of you who don't know already, I had my baby the other day. He was a little early, but considered full-term - and he's doing great. We just went to see the pediatrician for a second visit today, and he gained twice as much weight as was expected of him over the past week, and is now back in the 50th percentile - where he was for most of the pregnancy.
(Sidebar: Interestingly enough, I always thought I would want my baby to be the best and biggest and strongest, but after the dramatic start this baby had - I am over the moon at average-ness and middle-of-the-road health stats.)
Apparently, newborns like to hold their breath. Like, they LOVE to hold their breath. They do it when they're eating, pooping, sleeping... and, well, since that's pretty much all they do - that's pretty much all the time. This breath-holding is quite alarming to new parents, understandably.
My baby held his breath for four-and-a-half minutes at birth. You can imagine the "alarm" this caused me and my husband. Although I'm pretty sure I didn't hold my breath that entire time - the ordeal definitely took a lot of my breath away. Those 275 seconds are now easily the worst 275 seconds of my life thus far. You can imagine all the things that race through your mind... Or maybe you cant imagine. Either way, I wouldn't wish this experience on anyone else. Just take my word for it. If you're really curious, try sitting quietly and still for four-and-a-half minutes. As the time ticks by, imagine that the whole rest of your life is in limbo during this time. People say your life can change in a second. Actually, it takes longer - and each second seems like an eternity.
That's why when people describe my baby as "breathtaking" now, it has a different meaning to me than it probably does to them. Not that the word has a bad connotation or anything like that. Just a deeper meaning than the user may intend. Yeah, I know my baby's good looking... But did you know he's life-changing as well?
2011-04-05
Wah-wah
Tonight, I replaced our Brita filter.
Our Brita pitcher has a dial feature on the lid for you to remind yourself to replace the filter again. The directions suggest doing that every two months. So after placing the new filter in the pitcher, I dialed the numbers around until they read 06-04 (for June 4th).
That's when it hit me.
The next time I replace that filter, I'll be a mom.
An ambivalent flood of anxiety and hope washed over me. I looked at the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, the disorganized mess of groceries I'd half unpacked from yesterday's Trader Joe's trip still sitting on the dining table, and the huge cardboard boxes from Amazon that had arrived today strewn across our living room floor. I also remembered the ENORMOUS pile of gifts, clothing, and baby gear we had just received at my baby shower on Saturday - still sitting untouched in the baby's crib in the nursery.
Simultaneously, I wondered what our baby would look like. Would he fit his 99% designated name of "Henry"? Would he be healthy? Chubby? With lots of hair or bald? Would anything be wrong with him? Would he have all his fingers and toes? What if he's disfigured in some way? What if he can't see or talk? What will he look like? Who will he resemble?
Then I sighed, and thought to myself: Silly Brita, getting me all worked up!
I did as many dishes as I could before my back started hurting (for some reason the kitchen sink is kind of deep set into the counter, plus my belly prevents me from "bellying up" right to the edge of the counter... So I basically have to lean forward in this awkward way whenever I do the dishes - which leads to excruciating lower back pain after about 15 minutes). I asked my kind husband to break down the cardboard boxes in the living room, as I put away the rest of the groceries in the pantry.
As I walked to our bedroom, I shut the door to the nursery so I couldn't see the mountain of stuff that still needed my attention (hey, a girl can only do so much in one day).
And as I settled into bed, I realized it had been an egregiously long time since I'd posted anything on my blog. Sorry there's no formatting or pictures... Why, yes, this post was created on my iPad.
Our Brita pitcher has a dial feature on the lid for you to remind yourself to replace the filter again. The directions suggest doing that every two months. So after placing the new filter in the pitcher, I dialed the numbers around until they read 06-04 (for June 4th).
That's when it hit me.
The next time I replace that filter, I'll be a mom.
An ambivalent flood of anxiety and hope washed over me. I looked at the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, the disorganized mess of groceries I'd half unpacked from yesterday's Trader Joe's trip still sitting on the dining table, and the huge cardboard boxes from Amazon that had arrived today strewn across our living room floor. I also remembered the ENORMOUS pile of gifts, clothing, and baby gear we had just received at my baby shower on Saturday - still sitting untouched in the baby's crib in the nursery.
Simultaneously, I wondered what our baby would look like. Would he fit his 99% designated name of "Henry"? Would he be healthy? Chubby? With lots of hair or bald? Would anything be wrong with him? Would he have all his fingers and toes? What if he's disfigured in some way? What if he can't see or talk? What will he look like? Who will he resemble?
Then I sighed, and thought to myself: Silly Brita, getting me all worked up!
I did as many dishes as I could before my back started hurting (for some reason the kitchen sink is kind of deep set into the counter, plus my belly prevents me from "bellying up" right to the edge of the counter... So I basically have to lean forward in this awkward way whenever I do the dishes - which leads to excruciating lower back pain after about 15 minutes). I asked my kind husband to break down the cardboard boxes in the living room, as I put away the rest of the groceries in the pantry.
As I walked to our bedroom, I shut the door to the nursery so I couldn't see the mountain of stuff that still needed my attention (hey, a girl can only do so much in one day).
And as I settled into bed, I realized it had been an egregiously long time since I'd posted anything on my blog. Sorry there's no formatting or pictures... Why, yes, this post was created on my iPad.
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