Showing posts with label mother-in-law. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mother-in-law. Show all posts

Thursday, April 2, 2009

My son, the night owl!

We are never really certain what nights we will be able to catch our ZZZzzzz’s lately. Our newborn son, Mauldin, loves to keep his new mommy and daddy on their toes. Although, only being a week old I am more than sure he doesn’t understand what “sleep” time is; considering he sleeps 90% of the day. How can he actually determine when he should be sleeping and when it is optional? So, I guess I can cut the lil’ guy some slack. Talk to me again about this in six months.

“I think Megan will be voted off tonight,” I said while sitting on the couch next to Laura. “She is really cute, but I just can’t get past the tattoos!”

It is Wednesday night, and nothing we really watch is on TV, so we watch whatever is available. This season we have caught maybe two episodes of the Fox reality talent show, American Idol. I pretty much loathe the show, but we still catch the occasional episode to stay up on the pop culture phenom that has spread across the nation.

Carol, my mother-in-law, is sitting, comfortably, rocking Mauldin, in the wooden rocking chair that was my grandmothers while my wife, Laura, and I sit, side by side, on our laptops, lounging between the pillows, on the couch behind her. We sometimes enjoy our laptop time right before bedtime, in the bed, or just sitting around in the kitchen, but most of the time it is on the couch in front of the television. I had just finished my late-night cup of decaf coffee and bowl of cheeszits. This used to be a normal night for Laura and I, minus the mother-in-law, but we have not had time lately; mainly because Mauldin really likes to monopolize our time! How dare he, I know.

“There,” said Laura. “I just got finished uploading pictures to facebook for the first time since we got home from the hospital.”

Ever since we have gotten home, a week ago, we have taken probably 150 pictures… so if you really think about it is about 21 pictures a day… give or take. I am not counting the ones we’ve deleted! I mean can you blame us? Obviously, we are a little fanatical about our first born.

We usually head up to bed around 10PM. I hop off the couch and make my way over to Laura’s mom to scoop up the little man. This sometimes comes with some form of protest because Mauldin is such an addiction that anyone who holds him becomes entranced in his aura. It is like his baby pheromones, he gives off, trap anyone who has embraced him.

“Alrighty, Mauldin, it’s time to go upstairs,” I say with a fervent voice… I always plan for a whining and “awwwhhh” to follow after I spout the words from my lips. He looks so comfortable and cozy. The little man is in his little onesie that dawns a baby blue elephant, on the front, with the words, “lil’ peanut” embroidered under it. Mauldin squeaks a little as I slide my right hand under his warm head and my left under his itty bitty booty.

“All-right little man, it’s time for your late-night din-din!” I exclaim.

I always try to wake him up before he eats… otherwise he will just lie in Laura’s arms, his face against her bosom, totally zonked out. Now please understand… our child sleeps probably 18-20 hours out of the 24 hour day our Earth is known for! I asked our pediatrician how long this will go on for and she winced at the very utterance of my query.

“Usually babies continue on this type of sleep pattern for about..” she said while pursing her lips and pausing to look through his manila office folder. “About three-four months,” she finished.

“Please wake him up…” says Laura. “It is so hard to feed a sleeping babe.”

“I’ll do my best!” I replied.

One certain way that I know can wake up our child is to take him and place him on the changing table… Our child, for some reason, hates to have his diaper changed. I have a theory, as to why he does not enjoy the changing of the diaper. My hypothesis is that he is brought back to a time when he was strapped down and a cold clamp chopped off a bit of his… well, you know what I mean. That certainly would make me rethink some things! So, lately he has been a little more docile when we have gone to clean up the mess that was left on the underside of his buttocks. Maybe he has placed the memory of the circumcision waaay back in the black hole of his baby psyche.

“Mauldin, comon’ lil man, lets wake up so we catch have some of mommy’s yummy lactation!” I said.

“Eric… that would not make me wanna wake up…” said Laura while positioning herself on the bed with a brown boppy by her side.

“Well, what else should I do?” I reply with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t know! Be creative!” replied Laura.

Thankfully, he awoke from his slumber, still a little groggy, but a form of consciousness! This time is the perfect window to introduce the “milk” to him. However, after about 10 minutes of feeding Mauldin tends to start slipping into his milk coma. Although, this night was not one of those nights. The more Mauldin eats, from his “breast” friend, he more he is roused to an awakened state.

“No, this is a little bad…” I said… “Why is he so awake? It is almost 11:30 PM! He needs to start winding down again… for his bed time!”

“I don’t know…” said Laura. “Maybe he slept too much today! Maybe he has to poop, maybe he has gas… maybe he…”

“He what? He wants to stare at the fan more?” I said in a confused and perplexed voice.

That is just what the little guy did… he laid in my arms and kicked and squirmed and would not stay still… then I heard the beautiful sound that I had been waiting for… *burrrp!* He burped! He usually does this about 3-5 times before he winds down for sleepy time and the sandman isn’t far behind. But, this night the sandman must of taken a vacation. Mauldin laid on the bed wide-eyed and awake. It is now 12AM and my wife is lying by my side asleep. I know this little guy is not going to give in anytime soon and I have to get up at 6:30 AM to get ready for work! I did the thing I really didn’t want to do… I gave in… I got up from the warm bed and made my way into the guest room where my mother-in-law was sleeping soundly. Or, for all I know, was lying awake just waiting for a little knock-knock on the door. Mauldin’s crying was so sporadic it was hard to tell if he was upset or just irritated that we were trying to make him go to bed.

Maybe he is just a night owl and wondering when he will be able to stay up and watch that colorful screen that his parents watch on a daily basis. What if he is just testing us to see how much power he has… “Maybe I can change the entire time-clock in this house! Mwhahahahaha!” –thinks Mauldin.

All-in-all I felt really bad giving up my son, to someone else, to Carol, my mother-in-law, to soothe to sleep… I am his father! Why can’t I do it? I am thankful to have had my mother and my mother-in-law the past two weeks, but, I, honestly, almost cried about it because after Friday Laura and I are on our own. What if this happens every night? I was hoping I would be a better father… A father who could soothe the savage beast inside my son. How could it be that our son would be put in the statistics book of the amount of children who grasp hold of their parent’s night and choke them to death until they are reduced to a walking Inferi, a zombie-like corpse that is dead to the world yet still sits behind a desk during the day…

It would be that as soon as I ditched my pride, for my sleep, he quieted down almost immediately. Well, I guess this parenting thing is about compromise and right now my sleep is being highly compromised. Well, let’s hope and pray by… counting in my head the months… June… he will be a little more adapt to our sleep schedule. I anticipate we will successful and can blend our son into the normal society sleep program. If not… I may need therapy, or a long nap!

Friday, February 6, 2009

My son wants to catch the worm...

It sure is an eye-opening experience when you’re sitting at your desk pretty content on doing your job when you receive a phone call expressing that your wife is on the way to the hospital because she is having contractions!!! Five minutes apart, no less. I was not sure how to even react to this news…

“It can’t be time yet,” I thought… “we are only 33 weeks along! He can’t come yet… he still has some cookin’ to do…”

I received this phone call at 4:02pm, on Thursday afternoon, and all in the next 30 minutes, I was able to call my boss, explain the situation and meet my wife, and mother-in-law, at the elevators of labor & delivery! Yes, I think I broke a few speeding laws on the way, but my mind was going 1,000 miles a minute and I almost broke down into the fetal position, ironically the very position my son is in, and swayed back-n-forth while saying… “not yet… not yet… not yet…”

However, that didn’t happen… I was able to pull myself together and be calm and chill as a 1999 bottle of white wine… (in which I was needing a glass of, bad!) That was until I got to the hospital...

On the way there...I made sure to contact my mom and sister to make sure they were aware of what was going on... "Is she okay?" my mom said in a rushed and motherly voice...

"Yes, mom, as far as I know, but when I find out exactly what is going on, I will call you back!"

I made it! Finally, after I parked, I made it inside and there were the elevators and to my right I heard...

“Hey baby,” my wife, Laura, said when greeting me at the elevator. I took a deep breath and looked at her belly. She had on a mint green shirt and gray sweatpants. I know this wasn’t her first choice of attire, but with the need to be comfortable, over chic, she obliged to comfort.

“How are you feelin’, you okay?” I quickly interjected during our embrace.

“Yeah, I’m fine, the doctors just felt I needed to be monitored…” she said, “That’s all!” How is she being so calm, I thought... she could go into frickin' labor!?!?!

I glanced over to my right, there stood my mother-in-law, Carol, she seemed as calm as could be, but I knew inside she was pretty much freaking out, but would never let her daughter see this because she knew deep down as soon as “she” looked nervous Laura would lose it. So, I took this as a cue that I should calm down as well… and honestly, how could I even really freak out because I truly could not imagine Mauldin being born on this day.. this day of days when I only had a caramel macchiato, from Starbucks, for lunch. This is Thursday, February 5th, this isn’t a day for my child to be born… this is the day BEFORE he is 33 weeks… I will not freak out because this is not the day my son will arrive to this world in his birthday suit. Besides, this isn’t the day I picked for the “pick-a-date” pool…

We walk in and are put into “triage,” which by just that word sounds scary… like we are on M.A.S.H. or something… Triage, I have only heard that word whenever we are watching a disaster movie where there has been mass destruction!!!!

After being hooked up to numerous machines, Laura is monitored as to make sure Mauldin doesn’t arrive… her contractions are still in full force, but from what I can tell she isn’t in a lot of pain. The nurse comes in to let us know Laura should be drinking atleast eight glasses of water a day… and they will be giving her a “shot” to lessen and hopefully stop said contractions. Although, they do warn, my wife, this shot may cause her to feel a little “different” for a short while. Oh, and that is certainly what happens… she starts shivering and shaking as if she hadn’t had her heroine today! (NOTE: My wife is not a junkie by any means) I had to hold her cup of water to make sure it didn’t shimmy out of her hand… There was nothing I could do, but stand there and watch… I wrapped my arm around her shoulders trying to hold her to show some sort of comfort, but she still shook…

What we do for our children.

Okay, fast forward three and a half hours and we are finally allowed to leave… her contractions have ceased… the shivering is over and her blood pressure is back to normal. So, now all we can do is wait… We certainly do not know how soon he will decide to grace us with his presence, but lets hope and pray that the lil’ guy has a little more patience than his dad because as the nurses say…

“White boys are whimpy!” He needs to wait until ATLEAST the first week in March.

Please, oh please, let him be somewhat punctual and not an early bird!!!