mylah’s Neighborhood

For the sixth morning in a row, The Boy woke from his otherwise peaceful slumber before 5AM. And for the second time in three days, he woke with a nosebleed.

[sigh]

I've discovered that he is waking so early because he's hungry. I'm certain he's hitting another growth spurt. He has outgrown two more footed pajamas and eats as though he believes he may suddenly be deprived of food for weeks (more often than usual, I mean). More than anything, though, he is drinking a lot of fluids. At least I know he's not dehydrated.

The nighttime ritual has been interrupted with all of this eating, too. As the old saying goes, what goes in must come out, and, well, his system isn't quite cooperating with bedtime. Yesterday, he went down without incident, only to bounce right back up a few minutes later with some unknown complaint. When he next cried a few minutes after that, I went in to check on him and found him walking in his crib, almost pacing. He paused, grunted, and I waited a few moments before scooping him out of the crib to change his diaper. Once clean and dry, he went back to sleep without any hestitation.

The result? He's tired. He's cranky. He's constantly hungry. And so am I. Well, not the hungry part, though.

As for the nosebleeds... Those just came out of nowhere. Sunday morning, his nosebleed startled me. This was, after all, his first nosebleed. I was holding him, gently trying to rock him back to sleep, when I noticed this dark stuff oozing out of his nose. (Keep in mind the lights were very dim.) Right away, I knew what it was, but I couldn't understand how it happened. I checked his crib for any signs of blood, thinking he might have coshed himself in his sleep, but I found nothing. I wiped his nose clean (amid much protesting), and that was the end of it.

This morning, his nose was bloody at 3:45 when he awoke (for his first breakfast) and again at 7:15 when he woke from his morning "nap" (Chris was kind enough to return him to bed so that I could catch a few minutes of sleep before really beginning my day). I warned them at school to be on the lookout for it during naptime (and I fully expect him to come home with a bloodied bedsheet), but I have no idea what could have caused it. It's not a heavy bleed by any means, and it seems to clot just fine. All the same, it's quite alarming when you look down at his sweet little face and see bloody mucous coming out of his nose. It's even worse when you don't get to it in time and he smears it all over his face with his hands. [sigh] Needless to say, I changed his bedding again this morning before we left the house (the fourth time in as many days).

Oh, yeah, and we think he may be teething, too. Those two lower canines still haven't come in, and he started drooling much more than usual this past weekend.

Can this little guy possibly be any more uncomfortable? Thank goodness his stools are normal and the diaper rash is gone, or I would really hate to be in his place!

It's been a while since I've written about all the things The Boy is doing. I need to follow the examples set by many of my neighbors and jot things down periodically (like weekly or at least monthly).

When I took him to school this morning, one of his teachers greeted him, gave him a hug, and, looking over his dark head of hair said to me, "He is so smart! Yesterday, we gave everyone crayons and paper to color, and he colored all over the paper, not just in one spot!" This actually came as a surprise to me because he hadn't been remotely interested in coloring in his Sesame Street coloring book, but it's also been a while. I made a mental note to break out the crayons again this weekend and see what happens.

When I presented a copy of the food restriction list I provided to the front desk, his other teacher thanked me and said, "He gets so upset when other kids are eating food that he can't have! The other day, he kept trying to get cheese at snack time. I kept telling him, 'No, you can't have that,' and he'd look up at me and start to cry. I felt so bad." He does that, though. He's smart enough to know that there are some people in this world who will give you anything to get you to shut up. Thankfully, his teachers would rather deal with his crying than a rant from me.

He's getting much better at communicating needs, and I think he's headed for a major growth spurt. During this past week, he has tried to climb into his high chair at least once a day, and once in it, he seems both anxious and impatient to have his food brought to him right away. When a preferred food is finished, he points in the direction he believes it is kept (the pantry, the refrigerator, the counter behind him) and grunts. When the food is gone but he is not finished (or if I take too long to get the food to him), he impatiently taps his tray with his finger, as if to point out its emptiness. And when he's tired of being in the high chair, he screams and tries to push the tray away from him. This doesn't necessarily mean he has finished eating, though. More often than not, he'll return to his tray (I leave it on a chair within his reach) and finish whatever food he's left there.

Another communication breakthrough has happened via his toy Brobie and the TV remote. This past Wednesday, I was able to witness The Boy bringing Brobie to Chris and pointing at the TV. When Chris took the toy and made no effort to turn on the TV, The Boy then brought him the remote and pointed at the TV again. And when Yo Gabba Gabba comes on? He gets so excited and dances, moving both his arms and legs. Dancing is a very big pasttime in my house.

He still cycles through his toys, playing with everything at least once a week. His favorites right now are balls, but he's equally fond of his drums. Books are also good standbys. I can always count on him to entertain himself with a book for at least a few minutes. And all animals make the same grunting/barking noise. It's the funniest thing.

I felt very bad earlier this week when I left him playing in his room while I went into my room to change my clothes and brush my hair. I had just affixed a barette when I heard him let out a terrifying cry, and I rushed into his room to find him, only he wasn't there. I followed the sounds of his wailing and found him in the hallway near the laundry room door, and he was banging on it. When he saw me, he ran towards me and clung to me fiercely, and it was then that I realized he though I had left him alone! My poor, poor little boy. I made sure we cuddled a good long while before we headed for school that morning.

Other than that, he's talking a whole lot more now, but it's still mostly stuff I don't quite understand, try as I might. Whatever he's saying, though, is something about which he is all too passionate. And believe it or not, when he's talking, he doesn't even give me a chance to respond with more than a few syllables!

I had such a great day yesterday. I wish I could have at least one of these kinds of days a week, but it's just not possible. Oh, but it was such a nice day!

Once I got Mommy duties out of the way (feeding The Boy, changing The Boy, and dropping off The Boy at school), I headed to the hospital for my appointments. I had an annual checkup (which I ended up needing to reschedule) and an appointment with the dermatologist. (Everything looks fine, but I need to go back to get this one mole removed. Because of its location, it will need to be surgically removed - but it's just a simple 30-minute procedure. He will, however, send the mole out for a biopsy to make sure everything is fine.)

By 9:45, I was free and had the entire day (well, until 4:30, anyway) to myself. When I saw the time, I actually contemplated going in to work instead of taking the day, but since I had already submitted the paperwork and it had been processed and I really was looking forward to having time to myself, I opted to head back home, instead. But first, I needed to stop at the grocery store and pick up a few essentials.

When I got home, I quickly unloaded the groceries and began preparing for my day of leisure. What does a day of leisure involve for me? Bread-making, and a whole lot of it. By the time Chris and The Boy arrived, I successfully shaped and froze 14 dinner rolls (plus one in the refrigerator, waiting to be baked and consumed that evening), four regular-sized and eight toddler-sized wheat bagels, and two kinds of pizza dough (enough to make four 9" pizzas). I probably would have kept going except that I ran out of unbleached bread flour. Oops! I was really disappointed, too, because I wanted to make some pitas and lavash and foccacia. If I venture to the store again tomorrow, maybe I'll make some this weekend.

Anyway, while the bread was proofing, I also did a few things around the house, namely stripping bedding and making beds, two loads of laundry, and thoroughly cleaning out the pantry. (This was when I discovered I had seven kinds of flour and wondered why All-Purpose Flour is called that, since it's clearly not all-purpose.) I've since realized that I desperately need to make sugar cookies and/or frosted cupcakes because I have way too many decorative sugars and sprinkles, and I simply must do something with them. And as I also have about five pounds of powdered sugar, I'd might as well make my own frosting, too.

But that may have to wait for my next Mommy Day.

I ventured into the guest room (where all my crafting materials are stored) to see if I could quickly make sense of anything in there and, after a few minutes of feeling a bit overwhelmed, decided I didn't want to spend my day off feeling stressed. So, I closed the door and went back to the kitchen.

I also didn't do any gardening. There's a giant weed growing in a crack between two pavers in my driveway, and I wanted to pull it and attack some of the other visible weeds. Aside from enjoying my day working with dough (because, as Chris said, I didn't really bake anything until that evening), it was also way too hot outside for my liking, so I didn't bother with the gardening gloves.

There were a few other things I wanted to do around the house that didn't get done (vacuuming, thoroughly cleaning the bathrooms, sorting through my clothes to determine which can be given away), but I really had a nice, relaxing day. Sure, my feet hurt when I crawled into bed last night, and I didn't get the nap that I promised myself, but I had fun.

And I didn't check my work e-mail once!

...you change your son's diaper in the morning and do an inward happy dance because his poop is solid.

And now back to your regularly scheduled programming without further interruptions.

How do you react when you're stressed?
Submitted by Deep Thinker

It depends.

If I'm stressed and feel totally overwhelmed and don't even know how to begin dealing with it, I cry. Which means that someone will usually tell me that I have no reason to cry and that I need to deal with whatever it is that is stressing me. And then I scream like a banshee at said person and come close to a nervous breakdown. Thankfully, this doesn't happen often. But it has happened more often than I think it should have. It also gets compounded when I ask for help from people who either (a) make me explain my needs in detail, adding to more stress, (b) do a half-assed job of "helping" me because they think that doing something half-assed is helpful, or (c) don't give a rat's behind and blow off me - and my pleas for help. (This compounded stress also happens more often than I think it ought.)

If I'm stressed but have it basically under control (meaning, I see a light at the end of the tunnel and know that it isn't an oncoming train), I tense up and focus on tasks at hand while admittedly getting generally bitchy to anyone foolish enough to cross my path (and especially bitchy to those who try to "help" - which is explained in the above stressful reaction). This also doesn't happen too often, but I've found those on the receiving end of my wrath take it particularly hard when they (a) are just as bad at lashing out at others, (b) believe that I should cater to their needs even when I'm the one under stress, (c) are too self-absorbed to realize that I'm clearly having a moment (or twelve), and/or (d) are either not around me enough during moments of sanity or choose to forget that during calmer times, I'm really quite affable. And dealing with those types stress me out even more. (Not that I know people like this, of course.)

If I'm stressed about something minor (such as a toddler throwing a poopy diaper that happens to land on me), I take a deep breath, slowly exhale, and repeat, moving slowly to complete whatever tasks are at hand, until I feel like things are under control again. When said toddler is involved, it also involves a lot of hugging and cuddling, and I kiss his head a gazillion times while breathing slowly (because he is usually crying, which only compounds my stress, and this is a sure fire way to calm the little man).

And if it's something minor that doesn't involve a small child, I'll pick a mantra and repeat it slowly until my blood pressure returns to normal. Thankfully, this is usually all I need to do.

A few months ago, I had to take bananas off The Boy's List of Approved Foods (LAF). Despite devouring bananas since he was six months of age (whole bananas since eight months), he suddenly developed a mild rash after eating them, so they were immediately banned. This weekend, though, tired of depriving him of cheese, milk, and other foods he loves so much, I decided to give him a banana and see if the reactions were still there. And after a 30 minutes (then an hour, then 90 minutes), I noticed there wasn't a single rash developing anywhere on his body. And, oh, I had never seen this child so happy to eat something!

The next morning, I offered another banana and carefully watched him for any adverse reactions. There were none, except that he was quite distraught that he had finished his banana as quickly as he did. So, I decided, bananas were back on the LAF.

Pineapples, however...

It's not that he reacts to them, necessarily. Not outwardly, anyway. But I've hypothesized that the pineapples - while not directly causing any tummy problems - are not helping ease tummy issues. So, I've put pineapples on the restricted list, meaning that he can have some pineapples every other week or so, but not every day.

In other food-related news, soy milk has also made it to the LAF, but I haven't tried offering any soy-cheese yet. (I'll be honest - the soy cheese kind of freaks me out.) I was so happy to be able to bring milk to school this morning for him, since he's been strictly on water at school for the past month.

And I made a pot roast last night (MSG-free, of course), which was duly rejected by The Boy. Once I popped a piece of beef into his mouth, he held it there for a little while, almost contemplatively, before pulling it out with his fingers and placing it in my hand. Not even the carrots or potatoes met his approval. It wasn't so bad that he scraped his tongue (he's done that before), but it clearly wasn't something he wanted to eat.

Well, at least Chris liked it.

Sometimes, I wonder if I should have gone to law school. Not right after college, mind you - I was completely burned out on school by then - but maybe later. Of course, that would have required that I kept my grades law-school-acceptable, but that's a different story. I got my MBA, didn't I? Surely that counts for something.

I'm wondering this right now as I listen to one of our attorneys talking to our department head. (My desk is literally right outside my department head's office.) Everything she's talking about (all related to intellectual property rights) is so incredibly fascinating. And our legal department does so much research, it's mind-blowing. (Research is one thing I really enjoy.)

All the same, I like do what I do. No, I don't get to do nearly as much research (and all my research is based on sales histories - not nearly as exciting as other types), but it's enjoyable, and I don't stress about it when I get home.

Besides, I can always go to law school later, if that's what I really want.

Nothing will wake you from your post-sugar-rush slump like a fire alarm, its shrill piercing tones still ringing in my head. No one made much of an effort to move until the Loss Prevention guy came down the corridor on his way out of the building. That's when everyone started scurrying to the lobby. It was a false alarm, though. Everything's fine, everyone's safe, and all the guitars on the walls downstairs are dry and secure.

I've just spoken with my friend Bekki and am very excited. I received a confirmation e-mail that I'm on the list to get into tomorrow night's Smashing Pumpkins show, and Bekki agreed to go with me! Hurray! And Chris is okay staying at home with The Boy and putting the little one down for the night. Double hurray!

Of course, this means Mommy won't sleep tomorrow night, though. Oh well. I'll try to catch a couple of solid naps this weekend. My basil plant is doing just fine in its tiny container on my window sill; one more week shouldn't hurt it too much, right?

I've decided I like the analysis portion of planning better than the forecasting part of it. Forecasting sucks because you can wind up being oh so wrong and get blamed for it, whereas analysis is all about interpreting the past. Also, forecasting an entire year out when this year isn't finished yet is a lot harder when you actually sit down to do it.

Today's weather is worse than it was yesterday and the day before. The rain hasn't let up at all. And when it's overcast outside, it's freezing in the building, so I'm wearing a jacket and have my space heater on high.

One of the guys from IT just stopped by and said the system I use for all my reporting will be offline in about an hour for about 30 minutes. [sigh] As if I need any more reasons to be completely unproductive today.

I did something very bad this morning, knowing all too well what the consequences would be.

I had a gigantic chocolate chip brownie for breakfast, washed down with a cafe mocha.

Can anyone say sugar rush?

The thing is, even though The Boy cooperated enough to let Mommy have six consecutive hours of sleep, I'm still really tired. I estimate that it will take me a few days with daily midday naps and eight hours of nighttime sleep for my body to regenerate to a fully functional (read: no sugar or caffeine necessary) state. As that isn't looking likely any time soon, I'm doing my best to trick my body into willingly keeping my eyes open and my brain somewhat functional.

But you know what's really sad? Yes, I'm feeling the effects of a sugar rush right now, but because I am so tired, I'm not even hyper. I'm moving at my normal speed.

Toddler Tummy sucks. Sick spouses suck. Sleep deprivation sucks.

Other than that, life isn't so bad.

My husband is sick. He just sent me an e-mail letting me know that he's at home with the baby but vomiting, so I'll need to hurry home.

My day in a nutshell: Up all night tending to a wee 'un's runny diapers, working forecasts at work without the aid of my crystal ball (I wonder if a Magic 8 ball would work...), and now looking forward to scurrying home in the still inclement weather to face yet another restless evening - this time with a very ill spouse and the never ending bouts with Toddler Tummy.

[sigh] There's never any rest for the wicked, is there?