Count It Down

Some randomness, since its all I can muster these days:

  • The boy’s birthday parties went really well. I decided to not cook and got pick-up. BEST DECISION EVER. All future parties will be catered.
  • Remember when I said the Munchkin had gas and not colic? WRONG. I should explain a bit though: After my surgery, my milk supply pretty much went belly-up. I basically nurse her 3x a day and follow each feeding up with a bottle of formula. Ze milk is GONE. So she’s a mostly formula baby. This change was not good to her. This change? Was horrifying. Screaming, inconsolable child. Miserably constipated child who couldn’t poop on her own. Wailing, flailing, desperate child and parents. Several appointments with the pediatrician ensue and we embarked on our science experiment: Which formula won’t make her scream? We stuck to the Enfamil family of products, because its the brand they had in the ICN when I had Buddy, and well — I’m what they call loyal that way.


    We tried out FIVE different kinds of formula over the span of about two weeks. Each formula change was like the dip of a roller coaster: Will it work? Is it worse? Will ANYTHING help this kid? In the end, something helped. Its the Nutramigen formula. The hypoallergenic one. You know, the one that costs $10 more a can than all the other ones.

    But you know what? I’ll gladly pay that $10 if it means my kid isn’t in pain every single freaking night. If it means that she can poop on her own again and without pain. That’s kinda important to me. (And who’s kidding who? I’m not gonna pay the extra $10. I’ve got coupons up the wazoo and am surfing the Web for the best deals.)

  • Our backyard is a wasteland. Check that. It is THE wasteland. It consists of cement, dirt compacted into a hard surface that could probably cut glass, and a steep hill with a rotting, leaning wood retaining wall keeping it at bay. It even has rusty nails poking out of it. The hill is dotted with rose bushes sporting thorns as big as my thumb nail. I’ve seen black widows out there.

    And the child LOVES being out there. My son is an outdoorsy kind of boy. He loves to water the plants, so we bought him his own watering can. He thinks the hose is the best invention ever, and will laugh for an hour straight when the Hubbs sends streams of water into the air. Because he’s almost 2, he has two speeds: running and sprinting. Across uneven pavement with rotting, rising wood spacers reaching up to trip him. His little knees are covered in scabs and raspberries. He runs from crumbing concrete to compacted dirt and back with a gigantic smile on his face. Then he launches himself at the yard furniture, climbing

    And my heart is lodged in my throat the entire time.

    So I’ve talked the Hubbs into looking into estimates for the backyard. I’m going to bring a couple of people over to give us estimates on fixing the backyard into something safe for our kids to play in. Maybe some grass. Maybe some tanbark/mulch. Definitely a new, pushed-back retaining wall. I have big dreams. We’ll see how cruel reality is.

  • I go back to work April 20. Its so different this time. With Buddy, I was panicking about going back. This time? We know the day care providers and love them. Buddy loves them. The Munchkin has already charmed them. And there’s that small, insignificant fact, that she doesn’t have a breathing problem either. Makes life much easier, that whole normal breathing thing …
  • I’ve decided that starting Thursday, I’m breaking the boy of the binky. Notice I did not say I was going to TRY. I’m going to freaking do it. Even if it gives me hives. I’m going to do the same thing I did with the bottle: Cutting the tip off. Being that he’s getting his two-year molars in right now and has been inseparable from the binky lately, I’m making it even harder on myself. But hello? Going back to work on the 20th. Not a lot of time left.

    That’s all my brain can handle right now. Toodles!


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