Harsh!

On Valentine's Day, Josh got his first batch of shots. The good news is that four immunizations were combined in two shots. The bad news is that I had to hold Josh, and then hold firmly onto leg one, then leg two as the nurse had to stab him straight into the muscle. He was watching me the whole time.His eyes locked with mine each time,and the betrayal in them is eating away at me. I was an accomplice in the hurting of my son. He was so good -- his eyes got big, and he whimpered a little bit each time, but we had doped him with baby tylenlol before we went in, and I nursed him when we got home, but he was actually almost alseep before we left the office. I was probably crying and fussing much more than he was. The office was frightening all by itself...the doc that we go to won't give immunizations, so you have to go to the health department. The nurses were very sweet, and very tired, but the office put the fear of God into me, it felt like a very clean version of a chamber of horrors. Yellow lighting, graphic pictures of chickenpox gone wrong, and the worst part was actually another parent, who -- for whatever reason -- had not kept up on her kid's shots for at least three years...I think the little girl -- this beautiful, fragile, dark-eyed pixie thing -- (who looked about four or so) had to get seven shots...no doubles. And she's old enough to remember. They had to get her before Josh, and while they took her into another room, you could hear her. When I related this to Jon, He just wanted to find that woman and dismantle her. He sees enough of that daily at his social security office (just because he isn't certain about this parenthood gig, it doesn't mean he isn't responsible), and feels it's tantamount to letting an elephant tap dance in a mine field.

*Sigh*
Ok, onto other things.

At least Josh came through the first batch with no trouble...no fever and only a little achiness in his legs. Now, he has been sleeping a bit more this week, but Mom said he was due for another growth spurt, and maybe that is the cause...Eat and sleep, coo and smile -- Yes, my boy has a smile...and he's starting to try to have conversations with everyone...well, I don't speak "Baby Dove" yet, but it sounds cute. I can't wait to hear what his first laugh and giggle sounds like. Sometime down the road, when my bank account looks less like a whipped dog, I'm hoping to get those little "record your own message" boxes from Build-A-Bear, and I'm going to have all of the family members do one, with the intention of putting all of the voices in one bear down the road. For the time being, I've dug out my little micro-recorder, and I'm recording the cooing of the Boy Wonderful... ( :P. I'm parental, now. I can be goofy if I want to -- it's part of the contract.) Every day, he gets stronger and more together. He can hold his head steady now, and today, he learned to lock his knees and stand for a moment. I am fascinated by how quickly he seems to get the hang of things. Of course, since I never paid much attention to the development of the other small alien beings known as "children", I don't know if he's ahead of the game, right on target, or whatever. He just seems to improve each day, and it's always something new...

I am debating seriously as to whether or not I should go back to work...we aren't making any decisions until we see where we are around April. I miss the social aspect of work, I've always loved chatting up my customers, and I certainly loved getting a paycheck, but I'm not entirely certain that I miss the rest of it. I mean, I can still get carpal tunnel holding a baby (and in fact it's gotten worse since Josh came into play), my back still feels ouchy at the end of the day... but if Josh doesn't like what I'm doing, I can just put him down for a nap... customers whine so much if you try to do that to them (especially when you offer them a complementary 2 X 4 to speed the process). The last few weeks have gone so quickly, some days are over in a blink. I'm still trying to "follow Josh's lead" as far as what we do each day...the books say when he's squirmy and alert that it's time for physical stuff, and when he's quiet and alert, I should read to him...I don't have a problem with the first, but oddly enough (I say odd, because I EAT books -- or used to before he was born), I've not quite gotten comfy with the reading to him routine.

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Today is the twenty-second. Josh is going through another growth spurt and his cries are louder and stronger -- I swear, he let loose a scream the other night for a feeding that nearly ripped the paint off the wall...and he gets himself worn out, but won't go to sleep --- he yanks his hair, it makes him yell louder... I am so tired I hurt. There are times that I absolutely adore him...and times that I find myself thinking thoughts that are anything but maternal. when I want to cry as much as he does, when I revert back to thinking that this is a perverse joke that I just want to be over. On days like this, I feel less like a real person...and more like I'm just a vending machine. *Sigh* Sometimes, this mom-thing is absolutely unreal and amazing -- like when I'm holding him close and he's just smiling this sly smile up at me... then there are times when I feel like the person I am is fading out, that I don't really exist any more. I find myself envying my mom, who first and foremost defines herself as a MOTHER, before she defines herself as anything else. It's her core strength, I think -- and that infuses everything else in her life. She keeps telling me she isn't perfect, and has made mistakes in her life, but it doesn't change the fact that being a Mom is what she's most proud of...we've always had the fond impression that she points to the five of us, and thinks "Look at them....Look what I had a hand in here!!!..." We've never doubted once that we were her joy, her most favorite legacy...I feel sometimes as though I am a traitor to her...to those beliefs and strengths...because I don't generally feel all glowy and Earth Mother-y about this whole process, some days, I just barely feel ok about it all. I wonder how many of these feelings will be picked up by Josh. He is so perfect, and so dear and so alert and knowing...and I feel like I do him a huge disservice to even allow these less than maternal thoughts into my head...but that said, I can't help it some times. It never once occured to me that I would be a Mom...and I feel like I'm in a bad dancing school...watching everyone else's feet, and just hoping to God I can keep up when they go into the quickstep and not take myself or anyone else out in the process...
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The twenty-third.
Jon came home and put his hands on my shoulders, and marched me to bed yesterday. When I haven't gotten enough sleep (and he thinks I had maybe I had five hours of sleep in the last several days, I get morbid and scattered). I hadn't asked him to step in because I thought he was coming down with the flu, and I was trying to let him get his rest. Instead, I ended up doing bad things to my brain. Jon said that I was sniffling and babbling when he came home, and made me promise not to let myself get into that state again. He was actually feeling in pretty good shape. After that much needed nap, I began to feel human again. I'm still kind of tired, but better...much better.
Today Josh is officially 12 lbs. 11 oz., and 24 1/2" long. Healthy, happy, and squirmy...and, we think, just about to cut his first two teeth. Yikes!!!! So, my mission for the Guardian Squad, should you choose to accept it -- and I hope you do -- I need the most effective ways to get him through the teeth process. Ideas, Comments, anyone?
More to come, folks. I must depart...my son is on the floor dancing, and I think he needs a partner.

(p.s. -- sorry about the small print... I am having font issues.)