Thursday night....almost Friday

Well, here it is 11:27 p.m. and Dillon is finally asleep.  A rough time getting to bed tonight.  Who knows why.  Too tired to ponder the reasons.  I remember doing that with Andrew for a solid year.  Maybe it's this, maybe it's that, maybe it's a combination of 20 things, I DON'T CARE WHAT IT IS - JUST GO TO SLEEP!  Poor Andrew.  It's been four years and I'm still not over it.  Dillon just cried and cried and cried until I finally rocked his little bassinet and he watched me as he fell asleep.  I will admit this is the second time this has worked.  Trust me, this is not a habit I approve of, but sometimes a tired woman has to do what a tired woman has to do. 

Dillon is five months old now.  Today he took a bath and kicked his little legs for twenty five minutes.  It was serious business, this leg kicking.  It was fast and furious and it was hard to tell if he was enjoying himself except that he didn't stop or cry.  It went on and on and the boys and I were laughing.  Then suddenly, Dillon stopped, looked at Jackson and let out this great big belly laugh.  I cried.  He's never done that before.  In the early days in the NICU when Dillon's diagnosis hadn't been discovered yet and we had a list of horrible possibilities, sometimes I would wonder if Dillon would be happy, if he would have a joyful life.  Even though I know very well that he is a very happy baby, hearing him laugh like that is music to my ears.  He is likely a bit over 13 pounds - what Jackson weighed at 2 months.  He hasn't shown an interest in anything but breast milk yet so we haven't offered any solids.  We are in no hurry there.  He is in a phase where he adores men.  Any man makes his smile but nobody lights him up like his Daddy!  Oh, my gosh!  There's nothing like it.  He smiles with his whole body.  It is fantastic.  It makes Brian feel pretty good, too.  Dillon loves to "talk".  He has two voices - a soft voice and a loud voice.  He is fond of getting up for the day at 5:30 a.m. and uses his loud voice to let us all know.  He isn't mad, just ready to get things started.  It's very cute, but I'd love to hear it after the sun comes up. 

I am in the throws of babyhood - I'm lucky if I get a shower every other day.  I smell constantly of spit-up and my apologies to anyone who works out next to me at the gym because my gym clothes always have spit-up on them and when they get sweaty.....gag.  My hair either needs to be shorter or longer, less gray and less frizzy.  I need to eat less sugar and drink more water.  Get to bed earlier and find some way to organize things around the house just a little.  I have no idea what size I am so I just wear the same thing all the time and hope to tone up a little by the time it cools down enough for jeans.  I made it to the dentist today though so at least my teeth are clean.  I said to the hygienist right away, "I had a baby since I was here last and he's got a medical condition that is controlled but stressful.  I have kind of stopped taking care of myself but I'm trying to get it together.  That said, my gums are going to be a mess today."  She was very kind and said that they weren't actually that bad. She was being generous but also wasn't fooling me because my mouth hurts tonight.  The other night I was looking for a t-shirt to wear to bed and I came across one of the two t-shirts i wore to bed every night when Dillon was in the NICU.  I hadn't worn it since then and it still smelled like the laundry detergent I used in the condo in Kansas City.  Boy, did that take me back.  Heavy, heavy memories.  I've been having these strange, irrational urges to have another baby lately.  I know.   I spent some time with that and also noticed that I feel almost jealous when I see a pregnant woman or when people post hospital baby pictures on facebook.  It's not another baby I want. I just want the experience I thought I was going to have and instead got something so vastly different.  I am so overwhelmed with gratitude for Dillon that I hate to even say that, but there it is just the same.  Yeah, yeah, everything happens for a reason.  I would gladly trade these life lessons I've learned in the last five months if it meant Dillon did not have to live with PHP for the rest of his life.  Even thinking back to a year ago while I was pregnant is hard.  It's hard to explain even to myself what it feels like.  Kind of sad, kind of pissed.  I know I will move past all this.  It's just where I am this week.   I will not - WILL NOT - have a pity party though so I hope this doesn't sound like one.  Dillon is so unbelievably amazing.  When I think about how much I love that boy, I cannot breathe.  It was just an intense first month that I am still processing.  Kristin reminded me that while it feels like a long time ago, it really wasn't and we are just at the beginning of this journey (overused-word alert!). One day at a time.  One day at a time.  My next hurdle: learning to be okay with not being worried about him every minute of the day.

Well, it's now Friday morning (12:10 a.m.) and I've stayed up much too late.  I should mention to two big boys.  Jackson is enjoying school, loves math, started CCD, rediscovered his love of riding his bike (which is much too small for him), and starts an art class on Monday.  Andrew starts preschool a week from tomorrow, still can't get enough of Dillon and is as spunky as ever but says things like, "I am so proud of Jackson for going to CCD and there were no tears!" so it makes it okay.   Jackson is growing non-stop.  At 6 1/2 he weighs 65 pounds and is 4'3".  Andrew at 4 1/2 is 40 pounds and I can't remember how tall he is but he has shot up.  Someone said to me recently, "It's like you had the same kid three times."  Love that.
I told my mother-in-law today that it's often like living on the set of The View with everyone talking over each other and with varying opinions.  "Take a little time to enjoy the view."  How about I just take a little time to sleep?