9/24/12

What. Just. Happened?

I don't even know where to start. The last three days were anything but average. Maybe it's that Oliver has only a few days left of being 7-months old, and wanted to catch up on milestones, or his fever caused delirium. What ever it was, the last three days have been intense, annoying and shocking to say the least...


The short story... My weekend played out like this. Oliver mastered the fever, shit smear, sipping from a straw, crap sleep, snot smear, fussing, standing unaided, SCREAMING and finally deciding, I'll have what she's having!

So listen up Mrs. What to Expect When You're expecting the First Year Milestones:  Stick my weekend in your pipe and smoke it!


The long story... NO worries, I still shortened it as much as possible.

Fever: 

When I was putting Ollie down Thursday night I thought he felt warm, but not warm enough to signal any alarms.  By Friday morning the boy was hot! It was clear I needed to take his temperature to see how how he was. My friends, we don't play the rectal temp game in my house. We have one of those worthless forehead strips that gives a shotty estimate, and a regular digital thermometer for when we really want to know what's going on. (FYI: FTD thinks the strip is great and totally accurate. I think otherwise.)

After FTD's crap strip read 101 degrees Fahrenheit, I busted out the digital, reliable, one. All I could think was Oh No! This is possibly going to be Oliver's first actual temperature, and I have no clue what to do. Fear was setting in. My little guy was properly sick!  The digital thermometer read 102 degrees.  I called a been there done that friend to see what to do. She told me to calm down and give him Advil and see if it brings the temp down. I calmed down, gave him the Advil and waited... (I know I should have called the doctor's office, but I knew they would just say come in, and I just didn't think Ollie was that sick.)

This vicious cycle of stupid head strip, digital thermometer, then Advil, repeated every 8 hours for the next 24...  Finally by the 24th hour the fever broke. Still, Oliver showed signs of feeling crappy all weekend. So sad to see him that way. Then all of the sudden around 5pm on Sunday he was a happy energetic baby again.

Some moms said maybe it's teething?  Others said maybe viral?  What ever it was, good riddance!

Shit smear: When I put Ollie down for his midday nap I let him nap in my bed. Once he woke up, I went ahead and changed him on my bed while he was still too dopey. Hoping to avoid the log rolling ritual he does at every diaper change to make me crazy. I took off his onesie, then the diaper, SHIT EVERYWHERE!  EVERYWHERE!  Up the back, and coming out of the sides of the diaper. Of course I did not notice until there were shit angels (you know as opposed to snow angels) all over the sheet.  Normally I would cry, but Ollie was sick, so I changed Oliver and the sheets with a smile. (Albeit a fu*king smile)

Sipping from a Straw: I always have a big cup of water. Always. Since Ollie has become Mr. Grab & Dump, I have had to use only cups with lids. (Think Starbucks, plastic screw-on lid cups.)  Anyways. I'm holding Oliver and pick up my water to have a drink.  He always grabs at the straw, but never does anything but yank it out.  This time he grabbed it, stuck it in his mouth and sucked! No kidding the 7-month-old monster drank from my straw!  Thank God it was not Daddy's scotch straw.  Beware parents, babies drink from straws when you least expect it!

Crap Sleep: With Oliver feeling like ass, he had been sleeping like ass too. Both Thursday and Friday night Oliver was up every two hours just fussing. I changed him every time then nursed him back to sleep.  Again, my lil' man was sick, I was prepared to put up with anything with a smile. (Again, albeit a fu*king smile)

Snot Smear: Since I had two bad nights in a row with Oliver, FTD got up with him so I could sleep in on Saturday moring. When it was time for Oliver to nurse, FTD brought him into bed with me. I nursed him and then we both went back to sleep. When we woke up and hour later Ollie, had a streak of snot across his face, I had one on my chest, and the sheets had a nice smear too.

YES!!  The new clean sheets. I could not believe it, the damn sheets again! As per the theme of the weekend, Oliver was sick, so I cleaned him, my chest and changed the sheets with another (fu*king) smile. Even though this time I was close to breaking!

Fussing: Oliver is not regularly a fussy baby.  However, when he is pissed, or as I have learned, not feeling well, Oliver is a very fussy baby. All day Friday and Saturday, were spent trying to appease and unappeasable baby.

I never cried. I am very proud of that. Still had the Fu*king smile through all of the fussing!

Standing Alone:  Oliver has now figured out he can stand up un-aided for 3 seconds.  He pulls himself up, lets go with one hand, then lets go with the other, wobbles back and forth trying to keep his balance then falls backwards.  It's so scary because he tries this on anything he can pull himself up on, even if furniture is right behind him. My son is trying so hard to bust his head open or give me and FTD a heart attack or both.  As much I am impressed, I am not stoked about this.  Oliver is a week shy of 8-months-old.  Standing and walking should not be on the books yet! right?

SCREAMING! God help me and my house. When Oliver finally started feeling better on Sunday afternoon, he also started screaming.  Not mad screaming, just plain screeching screaming. After 15 straight minutes I didn't know what was going on.  I called my sister to let her listen. She just laughed and said, "Oliver is coming into his voice. It sounds beautiful!" Naturally, I asked her if she was drunk. This screaming went on for 30 minutes before he finally stopped. Thankfully he still has not started back up.

Seriously, screaming to scream. If your child has not done this yet, do yourself a favor and go buy earplugs, because it will do your head in!

I'll have what she's having: Last but certainly not least, Oliver is over raw and pureed food. He wants what's on my plate. He wants his food cooked and warm and that's the end of it. He ate my potato, beans, and I am sure if I let him, my meat. I am still leary about giving him meat. I was hoping to make it to 9-months to let his digestive system further develop, but I am not sure if I can fight him off for that long.

What a weekend!  For those of you out there worried about your child hitting a specific milestone, or milestones, worry no more. That shit can happen all at once over a 72 hour period. Oliver had his first fever, drink from a straw, stand on his own, potato and macaroni and "came into his voice" all in the same weekend!  Did I see any of this coming?  Hell no!  However, this weekend has taught me, when you least expect it, your baby will blow your mind and expectations!





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