Monday, July 6, 2009

Vacation Haiku

What is vacation?
A new place to do the same
No rest for mommy

I'd love for someone to sned me away to a spa for 48 hours after I wean Tallu. Alone. Nowhere far- I hate flying. Oh, gotta go, the kid is up from nap. I'm back on duty.


I am sitting in my grandparents' house, exhausted from a long weekend in Gloucester, MA, where Tallulah decided to take a vacation from sleeping through the night. Thursday and Friday nights she woke up around 2, and since we were all sharing a room, I put her in bed with us and nursed her back to sleep. Saturday night was...ugh...

Tallu woke up at 2:30 am Sunday morming and decided that everyone should be awake. Dad and I tag teamed her: nursing, rocking, nursing, rocking, sippy cup of warmed milk, toys on the floor; all ineffective. She screamed, she cried, she giggled, she wiggled, but she did not sleep. We were in a house with eight other people and one six month old baby. We gave in at 5 am and drove her past Rockport and she fell asleep on the way home, and on the way to the bedroom. It was an invigorating nap; she jumped up and was revving to play.

My husband was driving us home in a few hours, so for his sleep to be interrupted was dangerous for all. We did manage to return to sleep- at 6:30 Sunday morning, after driving and cathcing a glimpse of sunrise. We would have preferred to miss it.

Friday, July 3, 2009

Worst. Appointment. Ever.

Let's rewind to Tallu's last visit. Her doctor warned me that at around 15 months there is a developmental shift. Babies stop tolerating what was once commonplace. She said appointments would be pretty difficult after this, and I was to never come alone to another visit. I told this to my husband, but Tuesday night my husband started talking about some meeting he had for work the next day. I don't live near any family, and my friends who live nearby have jobs or children of their own, so not much help there.

I took Tallu to her 15-month appointment on Wednesday. We arrived at 9:10 am for a 10:30 am appointment (I thought the appointment was at 9:30), but it was easy enough to return home (we now live four long blocks away). The receptionist and I had a good laugh at my vague memory.

The fun ends there.

Everything was as Dr. M said. Tallu yanked the measuring tape from around her head. She crawled away when I laid her down to measure her length. Surprisingly, she did sit for her weigh-in, but that's because she had to sit on the scale. But she did the chicken dance when the nurse took her temperature (thermometer went in the armpit).

Then the doc came in for the chat and statistical analysis. Good news is Tallu is growing. Bad news is Tallu gained a whopping ONE pound as of the last visit, bringing her to 18 lbs. Tallu is not much for eating, but she'll milk me until I pass out. The doc told me to introduce her to whole milk, and combing carbs and fats (bread and butter, crackers and cream cheese). Her brain needs fat for proper development. She certainly looks healthy, but in a diaper she reminds me of a "starving ethernopian," as the South Park boys would say.

Now that I'm feeling like a maternal fuck-up, we have to get down to business: vaccinations. Tallu received two shots. The first one Dr. M administered as I held Tallu in my arms. Dr. M put the needle in Tallu's thigh and injected the vaccine. Tallu screamed, wrapped her little hand around the needle, and pulled it from her thigh.

I'll give you time to re-read that...

Dr. M was afraid Tallu had stuck her hand as she removed the needle. I was afraid she didn't get the vaccine and we'd have to do this shit again. Thank God, neither scenario played out, but Tallu gave herself a two inch scratch with the needle. There was another shot to go, so we tried a new tactic: I held Tallu's arms, while Dr. M injected Tallu in the other thigh. That worked, but the damage to my psyche (and I'm sure my kid's psyche) was done. I left the appointment embarrassed, dejected, and enraged.

Embarrassed because I did exactly what the doctor told me not to do, and my child was completely uncooperative. Dejected because I can't figure out how to get my kid to eat- Lord knows I try three to five times every day. Enraged because my child hurt herself and it was all my fault. I was cursing my husband in my mind the whole walk home, but I recognized that I couldn't be angry at him for leaving me to go to the appointment alone. He has a real job, and can't take a few hours off to accompany me to every appointment. I was pissed at myself for being incapable of controlling my kid and keeping her safe, which is my job.

Her next appointment is in October, and it is essential that I find someone to help me with her next time. Who will be able to help me, I don't know. I also have to figure out how to improve her appetite, lest the doctor call the authorities on me.