Working on sitting up
Inevitably, there is that weekend day, one out of the two, where Connor gets off schedule and we pay for it a little. Yesterday was that day. It's all relative, because I know his being fussy is peanuts compared to a kid who may be colicky or high needs. But he was fussy by 'Rad standards, and a little sour-bellied too. So, in an effort to soothe his belly and fill ours, we went out yesterday and got some Gripe Water, a Big Mac, some Chicken McNuggets, and lots of french fries. Nobody shared. I'm not sure if the Gripe Water worked, but he was smiley and happy when I picked him up from Amy's despite the fact that he spit up a little in the afternoon. There are now two items in our baby medicine cabinet: Acetaminophen and Gripe Water. And being draped over my shoulder and carried around. Ok, so three things.
The weekend wasn't all bad. After a failed attempt at pulling 'Rad around the backyard in a sled, I loaded him up in the front carrier and we went for a walk around the big loop of the neighborhood. Let me tell you, it's been too long since I've gone for any sort of recreational walk. It felt good to stretch the legs, but the cold wind and "wintry mix" (as the meteorologist called it) didn't. Connor was faced in towards me, so he was protected in his bear snowsuit and we powered through. Despite the adverse weather, it was nice to fill my lungs with some fresh air and get a little chill on my cheeks. On a separate but related note, the nickname "Little Bear" sprouted this weekend thanks to that adorable piece of outer wear and his fleece hoodie with bear ears on it.
Connor is getting to that boogery stage. Is that considered a stage? Well, whatever it is, he's in it, and he's in it hard. His little nostrils are cobwebbed with the stuff and I just can't look at it without wanting to or just straight-up sticking my pinky finger in his nose to clear the way for some fresh air. When nearing the end of a tummy-time session, he'll rub his face into his lily pad and end up with a sticky boog all the way up by his temple or near his eye and artfully dodge my attempts to unstick said boogies from his face. The boogies don't seem to bother him much. It's just me cramming my finger up there that can get him a little worked up. Go fig.
Speaking of tummy time...The brothers sharing the lily pad
I will continue to bemoan being at work with a 'Rad in daycare until 1) I get used to it, 2) I just buck up and come to terms with the fact that it is what it is, or 3) I win the lotto or otherwise come upon a large sum of money so we can be together more often. I love Amy, she's great as is her family, but she's not my family and she's not me, but she gets to spend so much more time with 'Rado than I do.
This was their "crazy eyes" pose
Tonight, he was tired when I picked him up so we got to spend 1.5 hours together before I put him down for his late nap. You know what, though? It was a good quality 1.5 hours. We tummy timed, we talked and laughed, we read...I'm making our lives sound like a chick flick: "I laughed, I cried..." Whatever. We had a good time, then he went down for his nap without a fight. He is such a good kid it makes me want to cry.
2 comments:
I completely understand your sentiment, and I don't think complaining about working and leaving our little ones will ever get old. Mine is in excellent daycare. Hell, Jenn is probably a better mother than me, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm MY daughter's mother.
It's funny you say that because I often think that Amy knows Connor better than me or that he likes her more. But I own that kid and he comes home with me every day, and we'll have a lot to learn about each other for the rest of our lives.
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