Parks: 4
Onsies: 0
Monday, August 17, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
Dear Parks,
You are currently asleep beside me on the couch. It's Friday night and your father went to the liquor store. That's how we roll around here. We currently need lots of alcohol in this house and I'm going to tell you why. See, Parks, you are A Screamer. You scream-A LOT. It certainly doesn't mean I love you any less as I'm your mom and, well, I'm obviously going to love you no matter what. Afterall, just last week I shoved a supository up your butt and lovingly caught the poop that shot out afterwards. If that doesn't say "I love you dearly" what does? NOTHING.
Back to the screaming...
See, you scream. Did I mention that you scream? You do-A LOT. Around four weeks ago we went to the doctor to find out why you screamed and she told us you had reflux. We started adding rice cereal to your bottles and that seemed to help. It seemed to help you scream only half the day instead of the whole. Awesome. Your father and I immediately returned to the pediatrician to get half of our money back. She then told us that having the reflux under control finally allowed us to see you also had colic. I was pretty surprised by this news as I hadn't been informed there was an eight level of hell. Turns out there is...and it starts in my house around 5pm.
But, Dr. V had the magical fix for what ailed you..."Colic Drops". Your father and I have been kissing the bottle of "Colic Drops" every day, fifty times a day, for the past two weeks. I had no idea what was in the teeny tiny little bottle but we begin calling it "The Elixir of Magic Fairy Dust". It seemed to be a cousin of the Magic Fairy Dust your Nana keeps at her house that lets you sleep, not scream, and come home with your hair perfectly combed every time you stay over there. Thirty minutes after having some "Colic Drops" you would stop screaming, start smiling, giggle, coo, blow bubbles and just in general be the most pleasant acting baby I've ever seen. I finally read the bottle tonight and realized the magic "Colic Drops" were five percent alcohol. Seems all those dreamy smiles you've been giving me after being "dosed" the past few weeks were because you were totally stoned. Your father and I keep waiting for you to wake up from this colic drops-induced nap and ask for a big glass of sweet tea, some ibuprofen, and a Whataburger. Lord knows your father and I have needed that trifecta a time or too.
This week I went back to work and enjoyed it a really lot more than I thought I would. Admittedly, I was completely torn. But the fact that your GiGi is keeping you during the day means that after your father drops you off in the morning I don't have to worry about you one lick at all while I'm working. I can never repay her for this favor and I'm not sure she understands what load she removes off my mind every morning when she takes you in her arms and proceeds to keep a "log" of your activities all day long. Yes, even your poops. She even writes down what color they are and whether or not you had to "strain" to take them. Don't know what that means? Well, honey, when you have to "strain" you make your "poo face". Don't know what your "poo face" is? This is your "poo face":
You have a poo face, a "wakey-up" face, a smiley face, a screaming face. Hell, its like you became a real live baby in the past few weeks. That's a good thing as that's what the doctor told us was going to happen just eleven short months ago when we started this party.
Sometimes I look at you-even when you are mad as hell-and I am totally amazed that I made you, you magnificent, angry, wailing beast.
Love,
Mama
Back to the screaming...
See, you scream. Did I mention that you scream? You do-A LOT. Around four weeks ago we went to the doctor to find out why you screamed and she told us you had reflux. We started adding rice cereal to your bottles and that seemed to help. It seemed to help you scream only half the day instead of the whole. Awesome. Your father and I immediately returned to the pediatrician to get half of our money back. She then told us that having the reflux under control finally allowed us to see you also had colic. I was pretty surprised by this news as I hadn't been informed there was an eight level of hell. Turns out there is...and it starts in my house around 5pm.
But, Dr. V had the magical fix for what ailed you..."Colic Drops". Your father and I have been kissing the bottle of "Colic Drops" every day, fifty times a day, for the past two weeks. I had no idea what was in the teeny tiny little bottle but we begin calling it "The Elixir of Magic Fairy Dust". It seemed to be a cousin of the Magic Fairy Dust your Nana keeps at her house that lets you sleep, not scream, and come home with your hair perfectly combed every time you stay over there. Thirty minutes after having some "Colic Drops" you would stop screaming, start smiling, giggle, coo, blow bubbles and just in general be the most pleasant acting baby I've ever seen. I finally read the bottle tonight and realized the magic "Colic Drops" were five percent alcohol. Seems all those dreamy smiles you've been giving me after being "dosed" the past few weeks were because you were totally stoned. Your father and I keep waiting for you to wake up from this colic drops-induced nap and ask for a big glass of sweet tea, some ibuprofen, and a Whataburger. Lord knows your father and I have needed that trifecta a time or too.
This week I went back to work and enjoyed it a really lot more than I thought I would. Admittedly, I was completely torn. But the fact that your GiGi is keeping you during the day means that after your father drops you off in the morning I don't have to worry about you one lick at all while I'm working. I can never repay her for this favor and I'm not sure she understands what load she removes off my mind every morning when she takes you in her arms and proceeds to keep a "log" of your activities all day long. Yes, even your poops. She even writes down what color they are and whether or not you had to "strain" to take them. Don't know what that means? Well, honey, when you have to "strain" you make your "poo face". Don't know what your "poo face" is? This is your "poo face":
You have a poo face, a "wakey-up" face, a smiley face, a screaming face. Hell, its like you became a real live baby in the past few weeks. That's a good thing as that's what the doctor told us was going to happen just eleven short months ago when we started this party.
Sometimes I look at you-even when you are mad as hell-and I am totally amazed that I made you, you magnificent, angry, wailing beast.
Love,
Mama
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