Tuesday, September 18, 2012

What a Dreary Day to Turn Eight Months

Tonight's post was supposed to be about little Michael, turning eight months old, complete with lots of fun pictures.

Sadly, today was just "one of those days," and the pictures never got taken.

We randomly lost power for about an hour this morning, so the white noise machine in the bedroom shut off. This allowed me to hear that much more clearly the whining, screaming, and crying going on during breakfast, since both kids appeared to be in in some kind of mood. I therefore was not able to sleep, or even relax, during the couple of hours that Tom set aside for me (as he does every morning) to rest alone, without interruption or anxiety about the possibility of a baby's (or toddler's) cries ripping me from my dreams.

I really, really, need those couple of hours, and it didn't take long for my body, and pounding head, to remind me of that fact.

It didn't help that today was a pretty cruddy day overall; dark and rainy. Even in the couple of moments that I was able to entertain the idea of setting up a photo shoot, I discarded it immediately because I really wanted to have some nice natural light coming in through the living room window, and there wasn't much available at any point during the day.

And Michael was in no mood for it for most of the day, anyway. His near-constant fussiness continues, despite the overnight appearance of his first tooth (the very tip of it, anyway), as does an ever-increasing frequency of spit-up and vomit. I'm now starting to wonder if what I've been attributing to teething pain may, in part, actually be a "relapse" of his reflux troubles. 


Aside from her morning grumpiness, however, Abigail provided a bit of brightness on an otherwise dreary day (when she wasn't driving me a little nuts with her usual insolence in the face of my verbal attempts to stop her from jumping on inappropriate surfaces, pushing and kicking her brother, and throwing things about the room).

Tom pulled the high chair into the kitchen and placed her in it during dinner preparation today, to give me a bit of a break. As much as I adore both of my children, I sometimes reach a point in the day where I need to re-establish my personal space boundaries. There is only so much that my sore, tired body can take of wiggling, crawling babies and toddlers with no notion of where their various body parts are ending up and what sorts of discomfort they might be causing as they grab, push, nudge, and flail about.

Tom was making some French Onion soup, and croutons to go with it. As he worked, he tried to make the process entertaining for Abby by explaining what he was doing, and providing props, in the form of food.  Thus, Abby ended up with toasted bread and a little bowl of olive oil on her tray. She understood the olive oil to be for dipping, and grabbed a piece of bread to dunk in before popping it into her mouth. But apparently, the girl loves olive oil, because once she tasted it, she was no longer interested in using the bread as a vehicle for bringing it to her mouth. She started dipping her whole hand in and licking the goodness directly off of her fingers. When she did take the time to pick up bread to eat with her oil, she spent a lot of time trying to suck the oil off of each piece after dipping it.

Once we were all seated around the dinner table, Abby was finally able to try the soup. As soon as her mouth closed over the spoon, her eyes opened wide, and she exclaimed, "O-wow!" At first, I couldn't tell if her reaction was to the temperature. But Tom insisted that he'd gotten it quite cool on the spoon, and Abby didn't act as though she'd been burned at all. So I guess she just really liked the soup. She certainly didn't turn down any spoonfuls that were offered her.

At bedtime, Abby gave her father a break, and "read" the Moo book to him. Tom swears that she got every line. If she ever figures out how to actually read by herself, it will be some time before I can tell- she's so good at memorizing things!

Here's hoping for a better day, a happier baby, and a more energized Mommy tomorrow. I'd really like to get those pictures taken while Michael is still just eight months old.