I promised I wouldn't blog again until I could do so without it being one giant whine fest. Hmmmm. Let's be honest, folks - I wouldn't be blogging until Ben is off to college if I had to stick to that goal. Just to balance the complaining out before it starts, I will point out a few positives in our life:
1. Today, Ben drank out of his little cup by himself without dumping all the water out. Lord help us my little boy is getting so grown up. I get so tickled at the sight of him gripping that tiny cup as tight as possible in his little hands as if a hawk could swoop down at any moment & fight the water away from him. If I can stop aaawwww'ing long enough to take a picture one of these days, I will share it with you.
2. There is a cat asleep on The Lanai, putting that Jamie Durie side table to use. The neighbours' gorgeous little fuzzball, Harley, comes to visit regularly - she must love the adrenaline rush of Ben chasing her & shrieking. Ben loves her, that's for sure & I am sometimes able to distract Ben long enough for Harley to duck through the pet door for a how-do-you-do.
3. Yesterday on the radio I heard the old Lady Marmalade song & it made me smile. Moulin Rouge will always make me think of my wedding. I suppose I should call it "our" wedding but poor Marcel had no hand in the planning of that pink explosion so whatever. Anyhoo, I entered the ceremony to a lovely piano arrangement of "Come What May." And instead of walking down the aisle, I was hoisted down on a trapeze because it was the best way to highlight my crystal-studded leotard & plumage but that's another blog all together. Well, I really did come down the stairs to Come What May, which was lovingly arranged from the crappy sheet music by a pianist named Gunther who my mom found at her favorite Nashville antique store. It was magical because when I told him during our first conversation about my idea of the Moulin Rouge song, he thrilled my soul by sharing that he used to play piano in the lobby at The Plaza in New York for years. The lovely Jackie O used to come in regularly & she always, always, always stopped to talk to Gunther & always, always, always requested a song from the original Moulin Rouge. I wonder if Mrs. Onassis also did a rendition of Lady Marmalade in the middle of her own wedding ceremony - probably not, because she wouldn't have known the modern version so she couldn't do all 4 parts like me. *sigh* I wish I had the nerve to pull out my Little Kim rap skills during my wedding. Ah well, there's always next time. Ha!
Okay, now on to the complaining. We are fast giving up on Ben ever sleeping well - we're up to about 5 or 6 wake ups a night! His molars are still fighting their way through but we're not dumb enough to realize that he is also just getting comfy having night feeds whenever he wants them again. So now we're going to crack down on sleep training again but it might be a disaster with his tooth situation but it's been weeks & I am just barely functioning with the lack of sleep.
I took him to a doctor yesterday just to make sure there was nothing else that could be bothering him at night. No infections, nothing else that she could see. But she also couldn't see any teething coming in so I just wanted to slam my head against the wall. I am not one of those people who hate doctors - I was raised around hospitals, I'm quite comfortable with them. But I have had enough bad experiences of doctors who aren't helpful that I get annoyed - when this lady said "Well, I don't see any teeth coming in," I didn't argue or push anything, I just tuned out. I have no medical training but I can see the damn teeth & I can feel them. Anyway, he is apparently low on Iron so now I have to stuff him with meat & other iron rich foods & vitamin C stuff so it can absorb better. Don't want an anemic boy on top of everything else! So basically, no help with teething or sleeping & she depressed me more because I'm still not getting enough food into my son (never mind that he's doing leaps & bounds better than before). I cried for a good couple of hours when I got home because I felt useless, alone, all of those things that every mother goes through. I'm much better today & we're just trying to figure out how we're going to handle the sleep shit so we can function properly. Marcel took most of the waking up duty last night so Ben would get the hint that he can't always have milk but I started back up at 4.30am for the last 2 wake ups so Marcel could get a bit of sleep before he had to go to work. Such a bloody disaster - I would love to have one day where I feel like a good mama!
And all of this stress has brought back my old friend IBS. I'll save you the details but the mad dashes to the ladies room just add an extra little sparkle to my day. But luckily, I'm getting my hair done tomorrow, which I am living for at this point! A couple hours of reading trashy magazines & being pampered ... thank you Jebus.