Please note: this is an old post. I have been blogging for a really long time: since my childhood, in fact. Bear in mind that any opinions stated may have changed, any code snippets may no longer be considered safe or secure, and my personal circumstances are almost certainly different to what's contained herein. You have been warned...
I intended on taking part in NaBloPoMo this month. You can see how well that’s turning out for me.
I am writing this whilst rocking side to side, in the hope that my little dude (fastened securely to my chest) will go to bloody sleep. Indeed, Oliver has gone from super easy laid back baby to a super intense ball of woe in the space of a few weeks. Even putting our feeding issues aside, everything seems to be bothering him lately.
— pause to mop up regurgitated milk —
Where was I? Ah yes. Oliver. He appears to be teething, and unlike Isabel who took it in her stride for the most part, he mostly just cries, drools and chews. The extra drool is making his spewing worse (he’s gone from happy-chucker to sicking up viciously acidic curdled milk) which in turn means he won’t sleep lying down. For 3-4 nights last week I only slept for 20 minutes at a time because as soon as I put him down he woke. I’ve managed to get some sleep by propping him up on a pillow half an inch from my face (the proximity is mostly because I’m panicking, probably irrationally, about a young baby being that close to a pillow).
The extra vom is making him resist feeds which makes him grumpy which stops him sleeping which makes him more grumpy which causes crying which makes him windy which makes him grumpy… you can probably see where I’m going with this.
So anyway, as you can imagine this is having a knock on affect on day to day. I’m star … mop up puke #2 … starting to have problems keeping track of my temper which makes me grumpy and naggy with Isabel. Work is slowly slipping behind, and that in itself stresses me which makes the above worse. I’m getting to the top of the work-mountain but it’s taking my evenings up and that’s not ideal for any of us.
It’s also Isabel’s birthday tea on Saturday and I’ve done absolutely nothing for that yet. Oh, the stress.
There’s not really a point to this post. I just wanted a good moan. As you were…