Four Months!! Life!!
Well the girls have crossed the line to the four month mark, which seems vaguely crazy. Actually it simultaneously seems like they have been here forever and also like they just got here. Such is life with preemies I suppose.
I feel largely these days as if I’m just kind of head down and getting through the days. I don’t get to see very many days in a row with all of the drs appointments so its hard to know how to plan much.
Ms. Talia is cruising along beautifully now. She is totally lovely and chunking up marvellously I think. She has managed to hold rock steady on the tenth percentile line on the preemie curve (weight) so that’s awesome.
She’s not a giant I suppose – nine pounds ten ounces as of Monday – but she’s really solid. She likes to sit in the bumbo seat now and watch things (except, of course when she doesn’t. Babies – totally unpredictable).
Developmentally she is way more sturdy with holding her head up and is smiling away. She’s starting to make more sounds which is really really fun.
Sleep wise she is funny. Both girls will happily go from 7pm to 7am waking about twice to eat (usually somewhere between 1130 and 130, and then again around 430). But at 7 I usually get Talia and pull her into bed with me to nurse her, and she almost always goes right back to sleep. I usually have to wake her just before nine so that I can dress her in time to walk Anika to school.
She can also be super emotional and just seems to go through periodic phases where she just wants to snuggle – like, I’m all good as long as there is some form of skin contact. Mom? Mom??? OHCRAPIMALOOOOOOONE!!! Usually I can just stick her beside Lucy and she’ll jam her hand into the side of Lucy’s face and we’re all good again.
One of our more dramatic days about a week ago was when the lovely Talia decided to spike a fever. Awesome. Babies are not supposed to do that – especially ones that are under three months adjusted. Darn. That earned us a trip to the ER at the children’s hospital. I had to bring Lucy and Sam with me (aeeiiii) but I was kind of hoping that with so small a baby we’d be in and out quickly.
Hah. No. Six hours later we came home. Now because I am awesome I brought one lonely snack for Sam – which he ate in triage – and that was it. Talia was fine. Virus. The end. (I can say that with absolute certainty since they ran every test known to man on her). Lucy had some wicked reflux episodes, running through most of the spare clothes I had with me (in the end she was sporting a short sleeved onesie with Talia’s legwarmers on her arms. She looked like a drunk clown dressed her).
Sam, poor kid, just about lost his mind. He was good – for being stuck in a room with a stretcher and a chair and nothing else for five hours he was amazing. I brought his leap pad and he basically taught himself how to write the entire lower case alphabet. When they finally said we could leave he was like “no, no! I like it here! I want to stay!” Basically he’d lost his wee mind. He’s also fine now.
Now Miss Lucy. As of her four month appointment she is now about 7lbs 9oz. She is getting there. Not burning up the charts but getting there. I am now finished breast feeding her, which breaks my heart a little bit even though I’m not actually sure why it should matter. It had to be done – she just wasn’t thriving the way she needs to be. The formula seems to be working for her so that is promising. And the cost of it ought to prepare us nicely for university expenses.
She’s also smiling and enjoying life in the bumbo seat though if she’s not really engaged and strongly awake we run the risk of her sliding out a leg hole. She’s kind of small still.
She is a wildly chatty little thing and if I get her going she will sit there and “guh” and “aboo” at you for quite awhile.
Her reflux is kind of a drag still. The Zantac she was taking stopped working so we’ve now moved on to nexium. I guess that is supposed to inhibit acid production and help her out? It does seem to work pretty well but wow is it a hassle to give her. I’m supposed to do it first thing in the morning, half an hour before she eats. Boo. This basically means i give it to her and then deal with her majesty’s outrage for twenty minutes (which is about all I can stand) before I cave and feed her. Also the medicine itself is weird. I’m supposed to mix a half packet with a quarter teaspoon of water. The problem is that the resulting…stuff? Is more solid than liquid. So I’m basically trying to convince a very small, very hungry baby to deal with tiny bits of gelatinous goo off of a spoon instead of feeding her. Oh well….it works at least so there is that. I’m not sure I can really see the point of doing it first thing in the morning though. It’s not like she sleeps through the night and is operating on an empty stomach or something. Who knows.
There are days now where I see the girls getting fun.
They play now. That’s kind of awesome. You have to pick your window but they can do It.
Why yes, that is Jesus perched near Talia’s shoulder like the master of all good angels. Talia is very in touch with her faith. Amen.
They have located their hands and think its really fun to grab stuff and chew on them. This stage is particularly hilarious to me because inevitably they will be moving their hands away from their faces, watching them go and you can just see the wheels turning…”hey wait!!! Come back!!”
Fun silly babies.
In Sam randomness (egads the boy is challenging these days) I have just now figured out why on earth the child was refusing to eat carrots – a vegetable I could usually count on him to eat a few of at least.
Me – Sam, lunch is ready! (Lunch consists of a bunch of random things thrown on a plate, including a few baby carrots).
Sam – (eyes plate suspiciously) – Are these big boy carrots??
Me – *blinkblink* – Yep they are Sam!
Sam – Good. Because I’m not a baby. Baby carrots are for Lucy and Talia.
Rights. Big boy carrots FTW.
In other big boy news we are finally (finallyfinallyfinally) toilet trained. As in he goes willingly all of the time and he tells me when he has to go so I don’t have to remember to ask him every five minutes. So happy it’s not even funny.
Yesterday morning he came into my room and said “I think I should keep my essie (soother) in the garbage. I don’t think that’s for me anymore.” That cracking noise would be my heart breaking.
Now before you get all judgey, yes the boy still had a pacifier. In his bed only at bedtime, blah blah blah. It’s been a battle I’ve been gearing up for but frankly I have had bigger fish to fry. Getting the boy to stop depositing horrific matter into his pull-up was way more important to me.
He has very obviously rethought his decision to toss the soother a few times (most notably at bedtime last night) but he really was ready and he wanted to do it…I think we just need to reassure him and gently encourage I him and he’ll be ok.
****edited to add that the boy made it two nights with some amount of tears and drama! and then today he located a spare soother he’d forgotten about in his room and pretty much we are back to square one. Now he says he’s going to keep it until he’s bigger than me and daddy. Riiiight.
But the Sam drama – oh the drama. Things are awesome! Things are horrifically tragically devastatingly sad and wrong! It is exhausting trying to keep up.
For instance this sad tear stained face?
Is because his stick broke on the way to pick up Anika at school.
I seem to be using the phrase “it’s just a phase!!” an awful lot these days.
Now I realize I’ve said next to nothing about my spectacular almost seven year old. She’s all very complicated and delightful and basically I love her to bits and pieces and she very definitely deserves her own post. Let’s just assume I will be able to write that really soon!