Thursday, August 25, 2005
Back alive, doctor's office visits and on-demand feeding
I lied. When I said that the most inopportune time to have a poop bomb was 3 minutes before takeoff on a flight, I lied. Because having a poop bomb 10 minutes before leaving for the airport, the poop bomb that covers 70 percent of the baby's body and 30 percent of the baby's car seat, is the worst. Hands down.
We got home, but the baby was still doing his "eh, eh, eh-ing." Even I couldn't console him. So this was the conversation between me and the nurse yesterday.
N: Maybe he got an ear infection from all the pressurization issues on the plane. You should bring him in.
K: But he doesn't have a fever.
N: Ah, my kids NEVER got a fever with their ear infections.
K: I swear to God, I told my husband that if it is NOT an ear infection, I'm giving this kid up for adoption because he is driving me nuts.
N: (insert muted tee-hee-hee) Just bring him in.
So we get to the doctor and apparently we are the talk of the office. Old friends by now with the nurse who has seen E a hundred times, she comments that everyone in the office is very amused by my statement. Failing to see the amusement, I just nodded. She then proceeded to to say that, and I quote, "Kristen, his ears are PERFECT. He's just teething."
I got back out to the car and called Derek.
K: Should I leave him in the office with the nurses or just out front with all the office girls smoking?
D: I'll be there in 10 minutes to get him.
K: You can't get here in 10 minutes. You don't have a car.
D: I'll take a taxi.
K: It's rush hour. I guess I'll just take him home.
I stopped by Buy Buy Baby and bought 37 of those frozen thingees for baby gums and the amped up Baby Ambesol.
Fastforward 2 hours later.
K: Aren't you going to give him the ambesol?
D: It's bedtime Ambesol. I'm waiting for bedtime.
K: It's f-ing bedtime somewhere.
And he went to sleep at 8:00 p.m. Ah, it's the little blessings in life that keep us going...
Until 2 a.m. Anyone know how the kid got on Greenwich Mean Time? He played for an hour in bed and was talking, yet again, in his OUTSIDE VOICE to the animals on his bumper. I finally gave in at 3 and got him. I fed him for a while but I was too tired so I rolled over and tried to go to sleep. He commenced a long-ass conversation with my bra strap about the injustices of mothers and, I can only imagine, the injustices of the bra that stood in his way. Did I mention he was using his outside voice? It is 8 a.m. and I haven't slept for the last 6 hours.
Anybody want this baby?