Sunday, September 12, 2010

Scattered Thoughts

This is the sort of post that happens when you're trapped under a ravening Frog, with one free hand.

Frog habits:  I've noticed that the Frog likes to tug at his ear or hair when he's feeding.  This happens more at the breast than the bottle.  Fortunately, the ears seem pretty firmly attached, and I haven't noticed any bald-spots on the sides of his head, so it doesn't look like a habit that's doing him any harm.

You know how people say that babies look wise?  I think it's something to do with the fact that without teeth, they look like little old men and women (well, up to a point).  I can't say that I've ever noticed the Frog looking wise exactly, but he has perfected a very disapproving glower.   I'm just waiting for him to tell me to get off his lawn.

The Frog doesn't know what he wants, and neither do I.  We seem to have this ritual, where he grizzles a bit, and I think "Right, food then", and go make him a bottle.  Then when I try to give it to him, he does everything short of walloping me in the face (actually, sometimes he does that, too) to let me know that food is the LAST thing on his mind.  He'll stick the bottle back out with his tongue, cry, give me disgusted looks, screw his face up, etc.  So I put the bottle away, and resort to the pattern of changing his position (gas?), or lying him in the crook of my arm and reciting the Jabberwock (tired?), and while he might burp, fart and close his eyes (sometimes all at once), the crying still goes on, and on ..  and ON.  And he gradually works himself up into this tearful and angry frenzy, little legs pumping away, hands hitting his own face as much as mine.  At this point, usually just with the plan of muffling the noise a bit, I poke the bottle back in, and lo and behold, he latches onto it and tries to inhale most of the contents.  The little face goes from a sort of soggy resentful expression to the cross-eyed milk delirium, and soon after, he's happily nodding off.  I don't see why we can't just skip all that palarva in the middle?

Thinking of sleeping babies...  The Frog laughs, but only in his sleep.  In fact, it's a sure-fire sign of knowing that he's dropped off.  What on earth does he dream about to make him laugh, I wonder?

Bubble-baths.  The Frog makes his own. Tee hee hee.

Baby hallucinations.  I wouldn't have thought I would have had much in the way of them, as I can count the number of times we've co-slept with the Frog on one hand, but I had them pretty continuously until he was maybe 9 weeks old.  By hallucinations, I don't mean that I was plagued by flying green babies during my waking hours, but when I was woken up from sleep, I'd be absolutely convinced that the Frog was in bed with me.  I usually felt that he was lying on my front, and would desperately try to sort through the quilt to find him.  I remember one of the last times I had one of these hallucinations, I was woken by the Frog crying through his baby monitor.  I sat up in bed, and started the ritual of digging through the covers, trying to unwrap and cuddle the non-existent baby, all the while being confused by his nearby crying.  It took me a little while to work out it was the monitor, and a little longer to stop looking, and get up and tend to him.

And my last scattered thought for today: coffee and a hot shower in the morning.  Is there anything they can't fix?

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