Posted on | January 25, 2010 | 2 Comments
Husband has taken to calling J “Slimer.” I find it amusing primarily because it’s so appropriate. The child is a drool machine. I’ve never seen anything like it. I keep thinking he has to be dehydrated because no one could lose that much fluid and still keep going! Yesterday our only recourse to changing his outfit for the fourth time was to leave him in just a diaper with a bib on. It is getting ridiculous. I haven’t come to work in clean clothes for at least two weeks. Every time I pick him up he nuzzles my shoulder like I’m a wet nap and he’s just swam through barbecue sauce.
I keep thinking that any day he’s going to have teeth peeping out of his gums, but so far it’s just drool. Drool and gas and miracle poops. Yesterday the gas was so bad that we couldn’t calm him down. We rocked, we bounced, we sang… nothing worked. Husband and I were about to experience a nuclear meltdown when something flashed in my head. I remembered reading something somewhere about the Kangaroo Method and having tried everything else, I gave it a shot. All I have to say about that is, God Bless Kangaroos.
The “method” consisted of stripping J down to his diaper and tucking him under my shirt. His little head poked out of the top of my tank top and the rest of him lay skin-on-skin against me. In a matter of minutes he was smiling again. Who knew?? I think we’re going to have to start him on some probiotics to help his little digestive system get regulated after all the crap he’s been through over the past two months. Maybe that’ll mean no more midnight farts?? Here’s hoping.
We have a new trick today… J has learned to hold his own bottle! I’ll leave you with this image on a lovely Margarita Monday!
Note the look of “why are you taking my picture?” I have a feeling I’ll get that a lot as he gets bigger!