The one where Mama needs to dial it down.

by statia on September 7, 2007

The Mini had his 6 month well baby check up today. Somewhere along the lines, I became hyper stressed about his development (thanks PPD), and severely beating myself up over whether or not I was screwing him up and not doing enough for him.

The early days, while long and tiring, are easy. Their basic needs are easy to meet, they sleep a lot, and otherwise, they are pretty content to sit in your arms all day, cuddling. It’s the next phase of milestones that really wear me out. When they say there’s no manual, I feel that this is the part that they’re talking about. I stress about the stupidest things. How do I know if I’m supposed to feed him more food, and when should I start weaning him down on so much formula? Is he spending too much time in his bumbo, or playing on his belly, or in his exersaucer? Blah blah. It’s no wonder I’m completely exhausted by the end of the day, yet need a heavy artillery of downers just to fall asleep at night.

The Mini is a completely normal average child. Everything is on track and the pediatrician was like “DIAL DOWN THE DRAMA, lady, your kid is FINE.” He’s pretty much staying on his growth curve, she didn’t seem concerned about anything and he’s slowing down in weight gain. Which, I’m no good at math, but I am guessing that most babies do slow down after six months. If the Mini kept up the weight gain pace that he did in the first six months, he will have far surpassed the tripled birth weight guideline. My kid doesn’t have wrist chub, he has wrist sleeves. He’s definitely not missing any meals, but I did finally get them to give me a prescription for zantac, because somewhere along the lines, my baby stopped smelling like sweet spit up and full on vomit, a smell which now permeates my nose on a regular basis, and is also the reason I’m guessing is why he makes himself completely rigid when I try and sit him up in the frog position. Because it burns his poor esophagus, and every time he’s in that position, he vomits or vurps, usually a vurp, and you know how much that hurts. No wonder he’s not trying to sit up.

Otherwise, I need to start drinking after he goes to bed because I need to find a way to unwind at night, or else he’s going to kill me by the time I’m 35. Doctor’s recommendation.*


*OK not really.

{ 7 comments }

shanna September 7, 2007 at 11:23 am

I’m all for the before-bed drink. Or the before-bed ice cream.

DD September 7, 2007 at 11:37 am

I think bivvups (combo of burp, vomit and hiccup, usually while bending over to pick something off the floor) hurt the worst.

6 mos down, only 17 years and 6 more mos to go! Whoohooo!

Tonya September 7, 2007 at 9:07 pm

Now you know why all those 60s moms threw the kids into the front yard and had martinis each night at 5pm. It’s all about survival, and I think they were onto something.

I’m glad to hear the Mini is right on track, and I hope you find the equivalent of your nightly martini to help you stress a little less. Hang in there!

Erin September 7, 2007 at 10:44 pm

I agree with Tonya, one more year and I swear I will be teaching my children the art of the Martini!

aithne September 8, 2007 at 6:12 am

I think I need a Martini later.

jesser September 8, 2007 at 10:28 am

There are loads of wories and I swear, those neurotic perfect parent people out there just make it way worse. Tabby hasn’t cut any teeth yet and I am NOT looking forward to it. But she got her shots yesterday and she’s a bit on the fussy cranky side t’day. God bless baby tylenol.

Deltus September 9, 2007 at 8:20 pm

You’re definitely onto something with the post-bedtime-for-kid drink(s).

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