Not so good, but not too stupid

So I’m not so good at the parenting thing, but I’m not stupid! Mattix had an appointment with his pediatrician on Thursday and I took my mom in hopes of avoiding another meltdown a la two weeks ago! (I also took her to his dermatology appointment on Tuesday as well). I’m getting smart! As it turns out, although it was certainly nice to have her there (especially because she sits in the back seat with Mattix, which makes car rides very pleasant), it wasn’t entirely necessary. Like usual, it wasn’t a brief affair, but Mattix did so well. His pediatrician was very surprised and happy with his development in just over two weeks. At our last appointment, he was obsessively playing withthrowing his toys everywhere. I’ve noticed that when he becomes stressed about or overwhelmed with a situation, he often does what he did with us in the beginning: he tunes out and becomes very intent on whatever it is that he’s doing. When he has any toys in front of him, he focuses in on them as though there’s nobody else in the room.  If he doesn’t do that, he becomes super hyperactive; he gets incredibly squirmy (more so than usual), “grabby,” will not make eye contact, and giggles uncomfortably - basically a nervous laugh.  At our appointment two weeks ago, he tuned out and kept the intern busy. He threw his stacking cups all over the place and she kept picking them up! I told her not to worry about it, but every single time he threw one, she was on it immediately, returning the toy to him. Besides that fact that I was having very vivid visions of him acquiring some nasty communicable disease each time he put one of the toys that she had just retrieved off the examining room floor into his mouth,  I also felt bad because it was getting a little out of control! However, on Thursday, he was incredibly interactive. He wanted to touch the pediatrician’s hair, take her stethoscope, and touch her face. She was shocked at the difference in such a short period of time. Additionally, like the dermatologist, she couldn’t get over how well his skin looks. He still has some seriously huge spots on his back, but you can’t even compare his skin now with his skin two weeks ago. She said that the dermatologist called her after our appointment two weeks ago and thanked her for sending us over because he was pretty “impressed” with the gnarly bumps and pustules that covered his body. That’s my little man – it you’re gonna get a nasty post-scabies infection and have a horrid eczema flareup, you gotta go big!

Anyway, here’s the crazy news: Mattix has grown one and a half inches and gained one and a half pounds in under four weeks! I knew he was growing because his clothes that fit just a few weeks ago are too short and too small now, but wow! When we came home from VN, he was wearing 3-6 months in Gymboree and now he fits squarely into 6-12. He was also wearing 6 months in most other brands and now 9 months are a little short. He really needs 12. I’m amazed at how quickly he’s growing. The poo analysis came back (you know, the one that prompted me to break down in the lab and cry like a freak?) and Mattix is parasite free, which is very good news for him, and even better news for my mom and I. After the Pei Wei diaper blowout incident on Tuesday, I’m pretty sure we would have been rockin’ the intestinal bugs if he had them. I mean, I was scraping poo out from under my finger nails when I got home. Baby wipes and hand sanitizer just don’t do the trick in cases like that. Ugh. I’m experiencing PTSD. New subject.

We’ve had a few rough days and a lot of rough nights this week, which is why I’ve been remiss about blogging. I guess I shouldn’t say “days,” because it’s usually just an hour or two during the day, but those few hours are hard. And the nights? Oh the nights. I think they are getting worse. I mentioned before that I didn’t notice Mattix experiencing any of the outward grieving that I think most of us expect from our kids once we take them out of the orphanage. He never cried for no reason (besides the whimpering in his sleep and crying during night terrors, which is an entirely different type of crying). He cried when he was hungry, wet, irritated, or really, really overtired, but never just cried for an unknown reason.  Even all of the horrible physical discomfort that he must have been experiencing didn’t cause him to cry. I expected him to cry a lot.  But he never did. Well, he’s doing it now and it’s gut wrenching. Not because it’s annoying or because I want him to stop – not for those sort of selfish reasons –  but because my heart aches. I don’t know if this is true, but I feel like it might have been less emotionally difficult for me if he had done it earlier, when we first met him. Now that I know him and love him more than anything in the world, I feel so totally helpless and horrible that he’s feeling whatever it is that he’s feeling. I guess that is a selfish reason, but I can’t help but feel that way. I would do anything for this little guy and to watch him experience what seems like a lot of emotional pain makes me feel so horrible. I know I can’t do anything for him besides hold him, talk to him,  and sing to him with my terrifying tone-deaf voice (which may be contributing to the horror - I might want to stop).  It really seems as though he’s going through what a lot of the adopted kiddos do when they first joint their families. He clings to me, buries his face in my chest, and just cries his heart out.  At least there are moments of humor. He was going at it so hard on Wednesday that he was literally choking on his snot. When he pulled his head away, the world’s longest, nastiest, greenest, stringiest bugger/snot glob was growing like nobody’s business between my cheek and his nose. It just kept growing and growing. I almost threw up.

(I need to talk about his crazy buggers before I forget. Does this happen to other kids? I mean, the poo is enough, but buggers, too?  It’s not even normal what I pull out of this kid’s nose. A few days after we were home, he was SO stuffy. I was feeling brave, so I retrieved the little blue nose suction thing. Yeah, that went over well. He flipped out. I kept trying b/c his nose was so full. He kept getting more upset and so did I.  My friend Laura and her husband were over and Laura was watching me, probably trying her best to keep quiet, when she finally said, “Here. Let me get it.” She reached into his little nostril with her pinkie finger and Oh. MY. Gosh. Once again, I was doubled over in the corner trying not to vomit. I started that horrible gagging thing that I have a problem with.  Even Super Mom Ed was a little nauseated. After a lot of digging, my best friend was standing over my screaming kid with his first super bugger hanging from her finger. On a positive note, I’m doing much better now. We have to clean his nose out before bedtime because it’s always stuffy – “adjustment allergies” – and that sometimes wakes him up. Scary, scary stuff I’m telling you. Not. Right. The good news is I’m able to do it myself now, but I’ll never get over seeing my best friend with my son’s four inch bugger string hanging from her nail. I’m feeling a little funky again. I’m going to change subjects.)

Okay, I got way off topic. Like I was saying, Mattix is crying his heart out for a good portion of the night and for a few hours during the day.  It’s obviously most difficult at night, both because he starts in his sleep then wakes himself up crying and because we’re so tired. This is definitely hard.  I hate to see him so upset, and I’m truly not at my best in the middle of the night after five nights in a row of two hours total of sleep each night. And yet this little guy is such a happy one. I’m walking around like a zombie during the day and he’s giggling up a storm, playing with his toys, torturing playing with the dogs, and eating like a pig! Well, I’m also doing the last thing on that list, but not so much the others.

Despite the fact that I feel drugged b/c  I’m so tired, we had a fun weekend. On Friday afternoon, Mattix and I met two of my friends who haven’t seen him yet for lunch. He’s quite the little flirt. He had two new women ooohhhing and ahhhing all over him and he ate it up. I think he’s going to be trouble. On Friday night, Mattix and I went to dinner with a few of our favorite VN adoptive moms and their adorable girls. Mattix got to spend some quality time with his girlfriend who, by the way, is as light as air. She’s two days younger than Mattix and a strong five pounds lighter, but it feels like even more because she’s so darn petite and weightless. She also knows how to sit on your hip, probably because she came home at seven months and is used to being carried.  I honestly have dude arms from carrying Mattix around. He’s 20 solid pounds and he doesn’t really help hold himself up that much. He’s very physically developed and on target, but because he wasn’t held at all before he came home at ten months, he didn’t get the memo explaining that when Mom is carrying you on her hip, you’re not supposed to play dead weight and melt. As a result, I have the most disturbingly large man biceps. Not exactly a good thing. Sometimes when I carry him my arms literally start burning from the weight. Too bad I can’t strap him to my ass and thighs, ’cause those are the areas that could really use a little firming up.

Anyway, dinner was lots of fun, although it’s very apparent we’re not at all popular at our new favorite VNese restaurant. It started out when the server sat two of us and our kids (we were waiting for the third mom and daughter) and then said, “Just so you know, there’s a changing table in the bathroom.” I thanked him and told him was aware of it, as I’d used it last time my husband and I were there. He then said, “I wasn’t sure because of the diaper on the table last time your group was here.” WTF???? A diaper on the table? Puh-leeze! I don’t even throw diapers in the trash cans when I’m out until I’ve first wrapped them up in a plastic diaper disposal bag. I would NEVER change a diaper at a table in a restaurant. I know my frumpy appearance of late might convey white trash, but give me a break, my behavior sure doesn’t. I told him that I certainly did not leave a diaper on the table, and he said, “No, not you, your friend who was here with you” then walked away. Okay again, WTF? She would NEVER do that either. I was a little taken aback. Honestly it takes a lot to offend me. A LOT. It’s been so long since I’ve been offended that I can’t remember the last time it happened. Trying to let it go, I reached into my diaper bag and pulled out a bib for Mattix when it dawned on me. We all use the disposable bibs that are not at all environmentally friendly but so damn convenient that I don’t care.  I always fold them up super small so that the slobbered on part is in the center, close them with the Velcro tabs, and leave them on the table with the used napkins. IMO, they’re no different than a used napkin when they’re folded up like that. Plus, I pick up all of Mattix’s “unwanted” food off of the floor with napkins that I leave on the table, so how is the bib a big deal? If you’re slightly slow and unobservant, I suppose, if you really used your imagination, that you might think one looks like a diaper. A and I both use them, so I guess he saw one of them and assumed she’d left a dirty diaper on the table. Let me just tell you, I’ve changed enough diapers in the past seven weeks to say that if that stupid little bib looks like a diaper, you’ve NEVER, ever, ever changed a diaper in your entire life. I mean, seriously, my kid blows through a full sized Pamper, can you imagine if his diaper was as thin as a paper bib?! But anyway, I know that’s what he was thinking so I told him when he came back. He appeared to get it, but who knows. By the time we were through with dinner and two of us ordered VNese coffee, it was brought out in TO GO cups. Hint, anyone? In true Laura fashion, I really sealed the deal with a grand finale. As we were leaving, I remembered that I had left one of Mattix’s bottles on the table. I walked back to get it, only I was carrying my child who was literally hanging in my arms, his giant diaper bag, my purse, and a gift bag. I was reaching for the bottle when the huge diaper bag slid down my arm, almost in slow motion, setting off a chain reaction that resulted in two glasses of water and one glass of diet coke pouring all over the table and floor. Excellent. Everyone in the room was staring at me. I went and found my new best friend, aka our server, and asked for a few towels. He told me not to worry about it, that he would get it with his mop. I think what he was really saying was, “Get the hell out of here.”  Oh well. Little man actually fell asleep on the way home and STAYED asleep while I carried him from the car seat to the crib. As I was walking upstairs, I went through the bedtime routine in my head:

Bath? He’s not that dirty, right? 

Antibiotics? Finished those two day ago

Benadryl? Sure doesn’t help with sleep any more, and he’s not that itchy right now

Cortisone creams and Vaseline? Skipping one night won’t hurt

Bottle? Kid ate like a hog at dinner. Not necessary

Pajamas? Hey, I’ve slept in my clothes before. May have been for different reasons such as passing out in them, but still. No harm, no foul. If I did it in my late teens, he can do it at eleven months

Diaper? Ummmm….I won’t think about that one

I slid him into his crib and he slept like a log for FOUR hours! Of course, the rest of the night was the usual, but those first four hours were great.  In fact, he was so quiet that I got worried a few times and peeked in, just to make sure he was still breathing (I’m still paranoid about that). Unfortunately, I’m a very, very slow learner and I didn’t go to bed at the same time. He woke up for the first time just as I was falling asleep and the rest of the night…well, let’s just say it was long. Oh well!

Mommy took Saturday off and had a lunch and movie date with two friends, then dinner at a great little wine bar/restaurant with two other friends. And then I slept embarrassingly late on Sunday. So late I’m not even okay with admitting the time.  And I slept in the guest room without a baby monitor to keep me up all night. It was NICE.

I know I’ve mentioned it a million times, but Mattix is doing incredibly well despite the nighttime troubles. If I had half of his spirit after getting so little sleep, I’d be pleased with myself. Unfortunately, I don’t. The one thing that keeps me happy and going every day is Mattix. At lunch the other day, one of my friends asked me if I ever imagined that I could love someone so much and my answer was no. I truly had no idea that I could have so much love in my heart for another human being. I love Ed more than I can verbalize, I love my family, and I love my friends, but I never could have understood this kind of love before Mattix was part of our family. Today, Ed looked at Mattix and said, “Sometimes I still can’t get over the fact that this incredible little person, crawling across the floor, is ours to raise.” I feel that often. Not so say that I don’t get frustrated or stressed, ’cause I sure do, but I love being a mom!

I have some absolutely adorable photos of Mattix, but I’m too tired to upload them right now! I promise to get to them tomorrow. I hope everyone had a great weekend.