It Must Suck Being a Baby
Poor Will. He’s got a stuffy nose. I’m pretty sure it has something to do with the constant use of the heater–which also explains why I get shocked every time I need to adjust a fuzzy blanket. It never occurred to me how uncomfortable a simple stuffy nose would be if you had no control over any part of your body. He can breathe if he’s on his side, with his head slightly elevated. See if you can picture what that looks like, and then guess if there’s any way to accomplish that without me holding him. Yeah, no.
Oh, I tried, bleary eyed, in the dark at 4:30 this morning. Rolled up a blanket and propped him up. The quiet lasted all of 3 minutes, just enough time to crawl back into bed. That’s a particular talent of these two: they seem to have a sixth sense for exactly how long it takes to get comfortable.
I’m pretty sure that’s what the definition of motherhood is: “never getting comfortable.”
Finally I gave up. The poor thing was tired–he wanted to be asleep, he just couldn’t breathe, so out to the couch we went, and now sit. I type this with a grunty little rhino on my lap, more or less peacefully asleep. Andy remains quiet in the crib, although he’ll be awake soon enough.
And I will be making a run to get a humidifier so maybe we can avoid the pre-dawn wake-up call tomorrow!
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