You've been fathered

I want to write this post as quickly as possible. I've been wanting to blog all week but was too tired every evening. Tonight is a perfect time to write because Joe is hanging out with friends and both kiddos are sleeping and it's only 8 p.m.

BUT, I also have four episodes of "Tori and Dean's Home Sweet Hollywood" just begging to be watched. So, write quickly I must.

It's been quite a week. It's one of those weeks where I feel I have nothing to show for my time except two kids who are still alive at the end of each day. That counts for something, right? Joe and Madeline got hit by a stomach bug over the weekend so Madeline stayed home an extra day from preschool. She was grieved to discover the next day that she missed a snowman craft.

Ya'll, this girl loves her some crafts. I don't have a single crafty bone in my body so I immensely grateful when her very thoughtful teacher gave me three paper plates stapled together and a baggie of ribbon and buttons for Madeline to make her snowman at home. 

Because my idea of a crafty snowman involves printer paper and crayons, a far cry from ribbon and buttons and glue.

The real story this week is this guy, Touchdown Turtle.

I mentioned before that Caleb is a noisy, messy little dude. Even in the hospital, he was a noisy breather and when he eats, it can be heard throughout the greater Indianapolis area.

Well, last week we noticed he was having a hard time breathing so I took him in to see the doctor. The pediatrician wanted Caleb to be seen by an ENT who diagnosed him with laryngomalacia. In short, the insides of his esophagus are floppy, causing obstruction of his airway and reflux issues.

It's a common condition, resolves on its own by 18 - 24 months and shouldn't be an issue for him if we keep him upright as much as possible and get the reflux taken care of with some antacid medicine.

Now I think we can all come together and admit I don't handle medical issues with ease and dignity. I come from a long line of overreacters and that gene definitely did not skip my DNA.

So the whole "obstruction of his airway?" Yeah, that kinda made me blink a couple times.

(Also, I made the grave error of watching Natalie Portman's "The Other Woman" a couple weeks ago and had no idea it centered on a newborn who died from SIDS. I sobbed while clutching Caleb. Mothers of small babies, DO NOT WATCH THIS MOVIE. You have my permission to watch it later in life but, for the love of all that is fluffy and cheery in life, do not watch it now.)

I just have to remind myself that there are million worse pediatric conditions and diseases and my baby is FINE.

The worse part is that the medicine takes a little while to kick in and help with the reflux and Caleb sometimes has a hard time eating and breathing at the same time. This makes Little Fussy Man appear. 

And when Little Fussy Man is around, the whole house is sad.

Little Fussy Man is rarely captured in pictures because I focus instead on getting him to calm down. But sometimes, the legend, the myth, the Little Fussy Man is captured.

Exhibit A: Christmas morning with my in-laws

Everyone looks happy and cheerful, right?

Take a closer look. Little Fussy Man came out.

He's had a couple of rough nights this week but the silver lining is I'm completely caught up on this season of "The Real Housewives of Atlanta."

Thankfully, Madeline is totally unfazed by his bouts of unhappiness. I keep waiting for her to get upset by the screaming, feel jealous I'm spending a lot of time caring for him or demand more attention. But she's a rock star big sister and I'm so proud of her and incredibly thankful that she has handled this transition so well.

My poor tired brain can't think of any examples but she has made me laugh so many times this week. Her sense of humor is just killer and with her looks and brains, she's a triple threat.

As for the title of this blog post? Many, MANY times this week, I've tried to calm Caleb down by doing everything I can think of. The second Joe takes him, Caleb immediately calms down.

Then Joe looks at me and declares, "You've been fathered." I'm not sure if that's enjoyable to anyone else but it makes me laugh every time.

And then I go to Caleb's room, close the door and sob in the rocking chair, wondering why I can't calm my own flesh and blood.

(I'm totally kidding about that last part. I don't sob in the rocking chair. Sometimes I cry on the floor while holding his blankie.)

Here's hoping the weekend is filled with merriment, cream soda and naps enjoyed by all.