Sick sucks

This is what a baby with an ear infection (right ear only, thank goodness) and a sinus infection looks like at the end of the day, after struggling against coughs, sniffles and congestion to get only a few minutes of sleep each day.

He never had a fever spike that I saw, and he never pulled at his ear.  But since he was sick for about four weeks with a cold, then better for one week, then sick again, Daddy decided to call the doc. 

Thank goodness he did, because now we have some antibiotics to help Shorty fight his infections, and hopefully he (and we) will be able to get a good, comfortable night's sleep before too much longer.

He shows his exhaustion and despondency so pitifully in his gloomy, sparkle-less eyes, and they look like sad little puppy dog eyes.

Thank goodness for patient and understanding grandparents and great-grandparents, who coddled him through his discomfort and inspired Daddy to call the doc, because something just wasn't right about this cold.

Looks like we might have one more long night ahead of us before the wonder-drugs kick in, but like I told Daddy earlier today: one year ago, every night was a long night, and we survived all of those. 

So we'll dig deep into our energy and patience reserves again tonight to comfort and rock through the wee hours of the morning, eagerly awaiting that silver lining to appear in the form of the sparkle returned to Junior's peepers.

Bad Mama. Bad, bad Mama.

Although I'm starting to feel better, I felt like a real ass for the past couple of days. Why? Because I blindly listened to the pediatrician's generalized, yet repeated advice, rather than tune into my baby and those who help care for him.

After a horrible, horrible few nights of sleep last weekend -- Cayden up every hour, and whining at one point for as long as 90 minutes -- I finally abandoned my hard-line, "he's got to learn to comfort himself and go back to sleep on his own; for God's sake we'll be at the BEACH in a week -- he's got to outgrow this neediness by then!" approach to consider that something else may be at play.

Coincidentally, his repeated "viral infections" in his diaper flamed up really bad this past weekend: white blisters on his nuggets, and a raw, red butt-crack.

When my mother-in-law pointed out for what must have been the seventh time that even Chicken's clean cloth diapers smell like pee (she doubted the doc's diagnosis long, long before I did), something finally cracked loose in my head to make me look at this situation in a new light.

To to the Internet I went: cloth diaper message boards, babycenter.com and Google. And after really minimal searching, it became abundantly clear that we were not in fact battling recurring viral infections; rather we were suffering a relatively common cloth diaper condition that many pediatricians are simply unfamiliar with, due to the prevalence of sposies today: ammonia burn.

**Insert deep, dark, ominous cloud of guilt that has hung over me for days**

Over time our diapers have built up ammonia, and now even the clean ones maintain the stuff, so that as soon as Cayden pees, the smell rivals that of cat piss. Having become quite familiar with -- and perhaps immune to -- the noxious smell of cat piss over the span of Spike's cathederized-way-too-many-times life, I really, truly thought that the strong ammonia smell from Cayden's diapers was just the smell of normal baby pee.

But the smell isn't the worst part. It's the ammonia itself, which is caustic enough to actually burn the poor kid's sensitive skin.

Yeah, I was letting my kid's pee burn his nuggets and butt.

But now we know what the problem is, and after only two days in sposies, Cayden's bits are nearly all healed up. And our entire lot of cloth diapers is going through a thorough stripping right now. Hopefully, a little bit of Dawn dish detergent, a little bit of bleach and a whole, whole lot of hot water later, our diapers will be as good as new and ready to use as soon as we get home from the beach.

Thank goodness he's too little to maintain any memories of the piss torture his mother put him through at eleven months of age. :(

Father's Day and other catch-up rambling

Turns out having a sick baby is way more time consuming than having a baby who is not sick.

Yep, Cayden has the second cold of his short little life, and this one is much tougher on all of us than his first sniffles were.

Father's Day had its ups and downs, largely because of the sick baby in our house. Cayden was so uncomfortable Saturday night he just. couldn't. sleep. alone. Daddy seemed to be the only one who could calm the bugger and lull him into dreamland, so he spent much of the night like this.

Suffices to say no one got a good night's rest, and we all kind of dragged through our first Father's Day as a family.

But Brian recognized the sweet irony of the situation: he was the only one who could comfort his sick son on the eve of the day set aside for celebrating fathers. And it was wonderful to watch him hold, coddle, stroke and whisper to his needy little boy. This boy is certainly lucky to have this daddy. And this Mama is unbelievably grateful for her partner in live, love and family.

As I wrote in Brian's Father's Day card from me, I knew when I fell in love with him nearly 15 years ago that he would be a great dad. And I love that he has proven me right every day for the past eleven months, continuing to exceed all my hopes and dreams for who he would be as a daddy.

Our Daddy was thrilled to receive two cards on Father's Day, plus a WonderPets storybook to read with Chicken (Daddy is a real fan of the show) and a 20" x 30" print of the picture he's wanted ever since he saw it in on my camera in Canada, framed in his office. This photo balances the office perfectly, as it faces the fall foliage pictures we took at the cottage a few years ago, which are mounted on the opposite wall.

And then we hosted a wonderful dinner with both our dads and siblings. So it was a good day, despite the exhaustion and tuned-up nerves.

After two nights spent downstairs on the floor, we've all returned to the upstairs bedrooms, and night-time sleep and naps have improved markedly over the last day or two. But the sniffles have not.

And I'm talking gross sniffles. Sniffles that started out innocuously as clear, watery dribbles above Cayden's top lip have now turned into an impressively persistent supply of gelatinous snot and coagulated greenish-yellow boogers. And he hates both the saline solution that disolves all that crap and the booger-sucker that would relieve some of his discomfort, if only he would allow me to use them in tandem.

Thankfully, Daddy was still tonight when I literally wrestled Cayden to the ground, pinning his arms at his sides with my knees and restraining his head from thrashing about with one arm while I saline sprayed, then booger sucked his nostrils with the other hand at bedtime. It wasn't a pretty sight.

Oh, but his baby coughs are pitifully cute.

So what else?

Cayden has perfected his "lemme outta jail" look. I know I'm biased, but really: can you get much cuter than this?

And he finally figured out how to open a cabinet or two. Although he's still working on opening cabinets and doors without conking himself in the head or face.

And we're preparing for a Daddy-less weekend, as Brian packs for a much-deserved long-weekend with college friends. Last Sunday he was exhausted after staying up all night with the baby, and this Sunday he'll be exhausted after staying up all night with the boys. But both kinds of exhaustion are worth it, in completely different ways.

Baby's first Juice

3 oz. apple juice mixed with 2 oz. water, and he sucked it down in no time. Nurse advised juice to keep him hydraded through his fever. But no trace of the fever this morning, so we're hoping he's all better.

Tough Day until Bathtime

Baby's first fever (101.1 when we called the doc; down to 100.7 at bedtime after Tylenol), and Mama needs glasses for the first time in her life. Only for driving (to see long distances ahead). Baby was much more upset all day than Mama was, as could be expected. But tough day all around.

That is, until the Tylenol, nap and dinner took effect, when we got a few moments of happiness.