Posted by: emjb | December 6, 2005

Vitamin X, Now with Fraudulin. Also, poop.

(props to Monty Python geeks who got the “fraudulin” reference)

My mother in law was sympathetic to my difficulties falling asleep, even when, as she did last night, I have someone else to watch Nathan. She bought me some melatonin to take tonight, which I just did, though I am doubtful of its powers, like all herbal remedies. I dutifully took my raspberry tea during pregnancy and fenugreek when I was trying to nurse, with no noticeable effect, so I’m kinda “meh” on the whole herbal supplement thing. But I do want to sleep w/out being knocked out by sleeping pills, so what the hell. Herbs are cheap.

Nathan, likewise, defies holistic wisdom and finds his evening baths more a wake-me-up than a bedtime ritual. I’m going to save them for daytime from now on. I’m kind of a crappy bath-giver, anyway; we have no baby tub at present, and the sink is just not that comfortable even with a towel in the bottom. I would just take a bath with him, but I have Bath Issues, in that I think it’s kinda gross to stew in your own skin debris. Having a pee-prone baby in there with me isn’t appealing.

Confirming my decision is the fact that he pooped during this last bath, and while I’m glad he was relaxed, ew. I ‘m having a hard time judging how long to let him finish his poops, actually; I keep taking off his diaper before he’s done, and since he also pees at the same time, I have narrowly avoided unholy baptisms twice today. I hate to let him be uncomfortable in his diaper, but I hate getting baby crap on me more. Since we laugh ourselves silly at the idea of using Elimination Communication for him, I will have to get better at discerning between “I’m still going” grunts and “all done Mom” grunts.

He’s so much more vocal this week; he makes his little eating and sleeping noises more, and now also an urgent “urrr-urrr-urrr” while gnawing his fist when he’s hungry. Usually with his brow furrowed. It’s hilarious. At least to someone who hasn’t been out to the movies in 2 months. He takes a long time to work up an actual cry, and instead goes through a series of little squeals and grumbles, and a sort of machine-gun “aaah-aaah-aaah-aaah” pseudo-cry first. Everyone tells me “be glad he’s not a screamer” and I tell them to shut up before they jinx me.

Back to try the bed; shall I sleep or shall I stare at the ceiling in frustration? And will melatonin do fuck-all to help? We’ll see.

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