you will not cry until I finish peeling this egg

My reasoning with the baby via my hard-boiled egg this afternoon is just one of the many signs that we are fighting a losing battle. I was all alone with Zeke for the first time this morning (Dave has class from 8-11am through July) and I swear, that little boy knew it and decided to test me.

I have a vague memory of Dave putting Z in bed with me and leaving for class, and the next thing I remember is Zeke kicking me awake, fussing and threatening to cry. I was totally disoriented and while I tried to gather myself and keep him from a complete meltdown, he somehow managed to poop outside of his diaper. I got him to the changing table and while trying to undress him, I managed to get poop along his entire back and in his hair. Then – cue the circus music – he peed on me. Twenty minutes later I finally had us both excrement-free. (This includes five minutes where I left him strapped to the changing table so I could brush my teeth and get dressed. I know this was a reasonable thing to do under the circumstances, and he loves his changing table, but I still felt guilty.)

I just got a kangaroo carrier and I had visions of putting Z in it so I could make breakfast and get a few things done around the house, but as soon as I put him in it he started fussing. Scratch breakfast. I zoned out on the couch while I fed Z and made some mental notes about the things I would get done later. Ha.

I somehow got Z into his stroller with minimal drama and made it (on time!) to meet some other new moms for a walk around the lake. This was great, actually, and Z slept the entire time. (He didn’t even noticed when I spilled tea all over his stroller and blanket.) Dave was back when I got home and I looked forward to a relatively relaxing and possibly productive afternoon. (I have an ever growing pile of stuff to deal with including some bills that should probably be paid soon.) But once again, Z had other ideas.

We had a normal post-nap feeding followed by some very nice play time which is generally followed by another nap. It’s now about six hours later and we have yet to get him to sleep for more than 15 minutes – which makes for a very, very cranky baby (and some cranky parents as well – parents who give ultimatums to hard-boiled eggs).

We’ve read that a six-week growth spurt could be the cause of this lack of sleeping and extra fussiness. And he has seemed hungrier than normal though it’s hard to believe he’s actually getting any more food from me at this point – I feel pretty empty. But I have to trust that somehow my body will give Zeke what he needs, and that this phase too will pass.

PS: My mom has been gone two days and already the apartment is a mess and we’re eating chocolate covered pretzels for dinner. And the bird is totally rebelling and chewed on Dave’s $100 physics textbook that he’s hoping to return when he gets a cheaper copy from Amazon. And we’ve lost one of our phones.