Something strange and new has been going on in the DoctorMama household. Although the refrigerator is still empty except for limes, beer, and dozens of quarter-full containers of takeout food of indeterminate origin; although the floor under the desk in the study still has a faint yet evocative odor of pissed-off cat piss; although the plants continue their slow march toward death; although nothing else has changed, HellBoy is becoming AngelBaby.
I agreed to watch him by myself for three hours straight today. While this may sound laughable to those who are single-handedly juggling twins, puppies, and broken pipes, let me tell you, I was dreading it. I am not a wimpy person. I am even rather skilled at taking care of babies (I was an au pair in Switzerland, for chrissake!). I don't go down easily, but HellBoy can take me down. And he saves his really special moments for me alone. But TrophyHusband needed to get some important work done, so I took HB to ... the outlet mall.
I chose this because it's the sort of frantic place where an extra minion of hell is not especially noticed. Also because he's just finally grown out of his 12-month overalls and actually needed new clothes. I prepared as if going on a secret assassination assignment into the deepest jungle -- DVD player for the car, check; lollipops, check; binky, check; diapers, check; toy cell phone featuring Glinda the Good Witch chirping "I love you SO MUCH!" over and over until your ears start to bleed but at least it makes him happy godammit, check.
And then off we went. And I have nothing to report, except that I never had to pull out the DVD player in an hour total of driving (longest time by far); he SAT IN HIS STROLLER in the mall (I swear to god, he hasn't done that for longer than 15 minutes since he was two weeks old -- we've been using it as a shopping cart since then); he didn't cry, not even ONCE; he didn't require lollipops nor grab at my breasts screaming "DAT! DAT!", just politely held his hand out for veggie puffs and said "More"; and there was a crying baby in one store whose mother said, "Look, there's a good baby. Why can't you be a good baby?" And she was pointing at HellBoy!!!!
This could be temporary, I realize. My nose only just today stopped making a weird clicking noise when I scratch it. But if it keeps up, I'm going to have to look around for something else to bitch about. And I'm going to have to find another way to get my upper-body workouts if I'm not going to be heaving a thrashing toddler around for hours every day.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
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9 comments:
Maybe he's getting sick. Middly gets weirdly subdued and cuddly right before rotavirus or an ear infection or some other horror strikes. Not to be a pessimist. I'm just saying...(and hoping, because if Hellboy goes good Middly will be the wild child of the blogging world--ever notice how all of the mommy bloggers' kids are angelic except for yours and mine? Of course you did, it's why you visit me :-) )
ARRRGGH! Damn you! Yes! Went I went to bed last night I discovered he was roasting like a chestnut. I took the first two hours of orneriness and TH took the second. He spat out all the ibuprofen and Tylenol we tried to give him. This am we're pretty frayed around the edges. GRRR.
Oh well. At least I have something to complain about still ...
Uh huh. Dr. MFA Mama, pediatrician, at your service. You'll receive a bill in a few days. You probably already know this and yes it's mean, but to get meds down him, wrestle him onto his back (it's a job for two, ideally), squirt them in and blow HARD into his face. He'll gulp, his eyes will water, and then he'll scream like a banshee, but they'll go down.
Dang... my condolences. If it makes you feel any better, I tried to co-sleep with J.Q. for the first time last night (we were away from home and I didn't want him to be anxious), and he kept me up all night rolling around, headbutting my boob and cackling like Woody Woodpecker on methamphetamines.
That's an awesome medicine-givin' tip, MFA Mama. I shall use it the first time J.Q. has to take anything really foul-tasting (he liked amoxicillin so much he RIPPED THE DROPPER OUT OF MY HANDS to gnaw on it further),
Didn't know that tip, and have just used it successfully -- thanks! HB actually loves all medicine if he's in the mood, which he isn't if he's actually sick. Now he's reclining glassy-eyed and red-cheeked on the couch, looking every inch the AngelBaby. Hah. The good news is that two of his grandparents are on their way so that they can take care of him tomorrow. They live 2 hours away, but recently threatened to take a job in China -- China! -- which I asked them to please not do for just this (selfish) reason.
I think co-sleepers are born, not made. Woody Woodpecker on meth, hee hee.
Yeah that's the only way to get things down Middly's gullet if he's not in the mood for better living through chemistry--also the only way in hell to get an infant to swallow liquid Zantac, which tastes about how I imagine ass dissolved in minty alcohol would. Bleh...
My child sounds a bit like Hellboy. I get the idea that's what they are almost all like. I realize the sickness might explain some of it but I swear she has been easier lately. I think they do have cycles.
Why can't they all be mildly sick throughout the toddler years? Unthreateningly sick. Just enough sick to make them glassy eyed and docile. And snuggly. Sick is the new Ritalin.
Sick is the new Ritalin, I love it.
Ass in minty alcohol, mmmm.
I left TH and HB's grandparents to dose HB with this am, and TH reported to me that the method did not work, but did horrify his stepmom (who has never mothered anyone under the age of four). I know that this is only because TH is way too gentle.
I haven't seen any cycles yet ...
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