*This is intended to be a lighthearted/humorous post on life with our "high needs, cows milk enzyme allergy" (according to his pediatrician) almost three month old.
How is it that our little string bean is almost three months old?! Today was one of those days that had the potential to be completely mentally and emotionally exhausting but for whatever reason, maybe it's the lack of sleep, everything has been funny.
5:30 AM Evan wakes up jibber jabbering in is co-sleeper next to our bed. Aaron tries to put him back to sleep but Evan wants none of that, he thinks he's ready to start his day and hour and a half early.
8:00 AM it's time for nap number one. Evan sleeps until 11:00 which is great minus the fact that he won't sleep well unless he's held. And by held I don't mean in a sling or an ergo (unless I'm simultaneously vaccuming) because heaven forbid this kid be restrained in any way shape or form. The De Quervain's tendinitis I have in both of my wrists now can attest to this.
11:30 I throw myself together enough to make a "quick" trip to the grocery store.
11:40 Evan starts screaming in his new car seat. He thinks the new car seat is the bees knees as long as mom is sitting next to him and rubbing his feet. I haven't tried it, but I'm pretty sure driving from the back seat is illegal and dangerous so, blood vessel bursting screams it is (not once, not twice but three times.)
11:55 Arrive at the store and feed Evan before going inside.
12:25 Put Evan in the Ergo and brave the store. Evan is a little angel and I say a quick thanks to the man upstairs. Then Evan projectile spits up about 1/4 cup of milk and mucus on my chest and down my shirt. Acid reflux: the struggle is real.
12:50 Try to checkout but my debit card doesn't work because my bank deactivated it when they sent me a new card. You know, the new card that's on the counter at home. Luckily I have a back up and we're on our way.
12:55 Load the groceries and strap Evan into his torture seat. Just as I realize I'm crushing the eggs with my foot a sweet older man walks across the lot and offers to return my cart for me. Again I say a quick thanks to the man upstairs.
1:05 Evan's screaming returns.
1:20 Arrive safe and sound at home. Go to get Evan out of his seat and his tears/screams immediately turn into a giant smile when he sees me coming to get him. This kid.
You guys it's only 1:30 and I find myself channeling my inner Clark Griswold with a "Hallelujah. Holy Shit! Where's the Tylenol?!"
But you know what? If being Evan's mom means that every day is exactly like today or even worse, I'd still sign myself up for the job
because:
-When Evan smiles at Aaron every night he comes home and says "hi buddy" to him
-When Evan rolled over for the first time on his own this week
-When Evan is loved on by his cousins and he smiles as big as he can, and they do too
-When Evan lays on the floor and coos at my grandma who, at 94, gets down on the floor with him
-And when Evan pats his little hand on my chest just before he falls asleep at night as if to say, "thanks Mom"
makes it all worth it. Every last, stare into your eyes and scream into your soul during his colicky hours (that have now passed we hope), minute of it.
So to the moms who too find themselves channeling their inner Mr. Griswold, you are not alone, don't let the cheerful baby that floods my Instagram feed fool you. But it does get better, I promise :)
We literally try to get him to sleep anywhere, supervised. This lasted long enough for me to eat a cutie.
-XO friends
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