Twas the best of times… twas the worst of times…
okay, perhaps a bit dramatic of a beginning… but we at the Brehm household seem to have found ourselves right, smack dab in the middle of what some may label as a frolic with colic. Our sweet baby boy is working through some things right now and his frustration seems to be compounded by acid reflux, possible dairy and soy intolerance and the general things that make babies go from cooing to cussing in two seconds flat. Barrett is incurring some growing pains and thus, we have on our hands, a case of 2 very different infants.
Before I divulge the tale of two tots, I must first note that Adam and I love both of these boys equally, perhaps we prefer one to the other but really, what parent doesn’t have a penchant for perfection in their little one. Saturday Baby is a jovial, charasmatic baby boy who spends his time connecting with those who meet him and smiling all over himself. Saturday Baby first appeared a few weeks back and while it was as if heaven was smiling down on us that day, it also presented an issue: we now know that Barrett is capable of being a happy-go-lucky little chap and thus we yearn for SB to make an appearance every day. Saturday Baby does not simply grace us with his presence on Saturdays … he will show up without notice on a random Wednesday or an otherwise boring Monday and bring sunshine into the world. He affords me the opportunity to wipe the spit-up away with a nice shower, pick up around the house as he lounges on his playmat and cuddle n snuggle him to pieces. SB is the baby that makes me understand why the Duggar fam has racked up 18 kids… babies are pure bliss and everyone should have a litter.
The Mr. Hyde of this scenario is aptly named Evil Tuesday Baby. ETB commonly visits following a SB Monday and is a whole different story. ETB affords me the opportunity to perfect the bags pooling under my once-taut eyes, whittle away the baby weight as I clock many an hour walking and bouncing the babe and eat away at my cell phone minutes in record time. Evil Tuesday Baby will be the reason for us replacing our carpet earlier than anticipated as I have worn a track into our floors during Barrett’s 5 hour fits. With this baby, smiles are not included and spit-up sessions are standard. ETB could also be labeled BCB (birth control baby) as he makes me think perhaps one and done is the road to take. The most heart-wrenching tidbit about ETB is that when this baby comes to town, it appears to be because B is feeling some drastic discomfort. With dairy, soy, caffeine, citrus and onions taking a sabbitical from mama’s meals, and the third stab at reflux serum, ETB seems to be cancelling some of his upcoming appearances, citing personal reasons, and mama and papa Brehm are tickled pink — or blue I suppose. Following try-outs of various tonics, Prevacid appears to be the winner in the fight against acid reflux and seems to be more effective at keeping the burning at bay.
While we have two polar personalities on our hands, there are definitely bright spots with each and every day of Barrett’s existence. The boobfet is taking care of biz as little Barrett tipped the scales earlier this week at 6 lbs 15 oz. (yes, I can hear your cheers and applause.), for the most part (knock on every piece of wood you see), Barrett sleeps beautifully as the sky fades to dusk, stirring only a couple of times from slumber to scream for sustenance, and he’s already regenerating some of the hair that disappeared post-birth. Pretty big accomplishments for someone who is equivalent to the weight I lifted while he was in utero. Although I still call him E.T. on occasion due to his large eyes and wrinkled brow, little B is looking much more filled out and fatty these days and we couldn’t be happier.
I will say that although being at home can be very lonely for a social butterfly like myself, I’ve become fast friends with Ellen and saved a boatload of cash by not grabbing lunch on the go everyday. Barrett is nearly 2 months young and seems to be getting the hang of the game of life.
I find myself laughing at many moments of motherhood as I don duds washed in breast milk, stick a thermometer where the sun never sees and sing songs like edamame and sing a rainbow over and over to calm a wailing infant. If you’d asked me three months ago if I would ever go three days without wearing anything other than expandable pants or if it would be four days before I could tend to the clean dishes in the wash, I would have likely laughed in your face but there truly isn’t one aspect of life that isn’t at least slightly transformed by our little tot.
Spring has sprung and our little babe is in full bloom. Next week we shall see if the scale stops over 7…
