It should be noted here that during all the insanity of October I had a stretch of eight days off that was the light at the end of the tunnel. It was when I was going to get rested up before all the end of the year, holiday insanity started. I didn't plan these eight days off for that reason, my schedule just so happened to work out that way, but they were what got me through all the horribleness of my October schedule. I worked the first Monday and Tuesday in November then headed home for my much needed eight days off to REST!!! Fast forward to Thursday at lunch time with Thatcher. He bit his tongue when he was eating. He cried a little bit, quickly recovered I thought nothing of it. Then on Friday he woke up a crabby cuddly, mess of a baby who didn't really want to eat anything, but managed to keep some ice cream and yogurt down. We went to the doctor and on top of the conquer sore he now had on his tongue from biting it, he also had double ear infections.
Let me just say that my first child had had two heart surgeries before he was eight years old. My middle child broke the same arm twice in one year. I have never in my almost ten years of parenting had a child cry so much, be so miserable, or sleep so badly as sweet Thatcher that Saturday-Wednesday of that week. He didn't drink anything at all on Saturday until almost four in the afternoon when we tried giving him milk from a syringe. He decided he could handle milk as long as it was fed to him from a syringe, like a little kitten. So we narrowly avoided the ER Saturday then spent the next three days forcing him to drinking and trying to get him every soft food imaginable. He didn't eat anything for a solid three days. He screams in pain and had to be held this whole time. For four days he never slept more than maybe an hour at time, then he'd wake up screaming in pain. It was the craziest, worst, saddest, most exhausting week of our parenting bar none. Much worse than any post heart surgery recovery. Insanity!!! We took him to his pediatrician and to the ENT on Monday just to make sure there wasn't something else going on that we were missing. They all agreed he had just bitten his tongue and the whole side of his tongue was a massive conquer sore that we just had to wait to heal. His ears were looking better from a few days on antibiotics, but the tongue would take awhile to get better. The only silver lining was we did get him scheduled for new ear tubes before the first of the year when all our insurance stuff starts over.
Through all this he learned how to draw up his own drinks with the syringe and give it to himself. This is not a life skill he really needs, but it came in handy.
This was after two days of screaming and having to be on my body. Thatcher finally allowed Rowan to cuddle him long enough for me to get the dishes done.
Through it all Thatcher wore his Batman costumes, alternating back and forth while we washed the other one.
On day three we set up a toddler wet bar of sorts. He reverted back to the baby sippy cup, but had to pour his own drinks, of course.
First bite of food in days!
So six of my eight days off Thatcher was a screaming, sad mess. In no way were these days off restful at all, but on to the craziness of the holiday season we go. No one will be surprised to hear that now I am sicker than a dog after a week of no sleep. Through all these debacle Thatcher continued doing phenomenally with potty training, all be it he wasn't peeing much since he wasn't eating or drinking. He told us when he needed to pee and frequently would go an poop all by himself. Miracle of miracles. The second weekend of November, while trying to plan for upcoming Christmas decorating, we decided we'd switch his toddler bed out for the twin bed that was in the office, freeing up the office to house all the playroom toys that will need a new home when the Christmas tree goes up. No one sleeps in our guest room anymore so it seemed like a great time. This meant that within a span of two weeks our two year old went from being in diapers in his crib to being potty trained and in a big boy bed.
This wouldn't be such a huge deal but he is our last baby so this meant the end of all sorts of things in one fail swoop. We moved his changing table dresser into my room, got rid of the changing table top Zach had made, and took the crib down for the first time in almost ten years. My Grandpa sent me money to buy a crib when I found out I was pregnant with Zane. This meant we got to by a nice crib and a matching dresser. I loved it. I wish my bed was a bigger version of the crib. That crib has been moved multiple times and transformed from infant crib, to toddler crib, to toddler bed multiple times. It kept all my little babies safe for a decade. I can't believe we won't ever need it again. Rowan slept in the crib until he was four and we moved into our current house. He was tiny and still fit in the crib, as a toddler bed, just fine. We didn't have another twin bed for him to go into so it worked out perfectly. Our years of baby parenting have been nicely housed in this decade. As we start a new one it feels right to be tying up all the lose end of that phase of life. It feels right, but it also feels so sad to me, but here we go!
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