Weekend Report

Well the weekend is coming to a close. Jim is watching Sin City and I am not, because it makes me want to sleep and make derogatory, sarcastic comments simultaneously. So here I am, writing to you!
Liam's shots on Friday did a number on our pleasant weekend plans. Illusions, they were. Illusions, all. Friday, he was clingy and didn't sleep much. Saturday, he was slightly feverish, LOUD, and began a really fun nursing strike. Not much sleep last night, either. I've started wandering around during the night after I put him in bed, because I know he'll be up again soon. I come down and have some water, then I stand and stare at nothing for a while. Sometimes I think I fall asleep like that, just standing there. Staring. Then I go up to bed and lie down, and he says, "There you are, woman! Pick me up already! My legs hurt!" And I do. Today, he was LOUD, no longer feverish, but very sad. I believe he's teething, too. Oh, and the nursing strike is still in full force. He'll be back to his regular self tomorrow, right? Of course he will! And I'll get to sleep tonight, too! Yes!
The appointment on Friday was interesting. Liam is petite, like the other two boys, at 16lbs, 13oz. That's about the 25th percentile at 7 months. And that part of his head that's always covered in scratches? I was right; it's mild eczema, which we're treating with a mild steroid cream (I see huge improvement already). The doctor made this familiar comment again: "Is he always moving around this much?!?" She was sympathetic when I told her he's still getting up twice a night, and rolled her eyes when I said that no, he did not go right to sleep after feeding, as she assumed. Awake about an hour each time, I told her. "I can see why that would be challenging," she soothed.
Liam was charming and engaging, as always - smiling and cooing and reaching for everything. The first shot made him gasp in surprised agony, and cry piteously for about 15 seconds. The second was a shock to him, and made him screw up his pretty little face in a frozen look of anguish, as he held his breath in a silent scream. His face was nearly purple before he took a huge, whooping breath and then wailed, and I felt that familiar fist of empathy squeeze my heart. My boy was hurting and I didn't know how to explain why, so I held him close, whispered sweet words against his cheek, and calmed us both.
We did manage to have some fun this weekend. We took the boys to Toys R Us and they got to spend some Christmas money from their Great Grandparents. Aidan chose a stretchy turtle and a Pokemon movie, and Caleb got an Etch-A-Sketch and some kid-sized bakeware. Today, we went to the mall to pick up the last of the pictures we had done at Sears and to get some more fish.
What? Why get more fish, you ask? Well, dear readers, we got more fish because this morning when we turned on the aquarium light, three guppies and one neon were gone. Gone. After a great amount of puzzled tank inspection, Jim discovered one tiny fish head on the rocks. The big fish seem to have eaten the small. I think it was the algae eaters. Quite disturbing, really. So we've changed their names to Hannibal and Lecter. We thought it fitting. Anyway, the new fish are bigger.
Oh, I get to go to the doc. this week, too. I have to do a glucose challenge as a follow-up to make sure my gestational diabetes has resolved. I get to fast! And drink orange crap! And have my blood drawn! Twice! Oh, and they might tell me that my blood sugar is wonky and I'll never get to eat chocolate again! Boo.
In other news, I have a ghost. Not too strange, but interesting as it seems to be getting bolder. I shall write a separate post about it, as I'm sure to go on and on and I think I've done enough of that for tonight.
Off to drink tea; hope the rest of your weekend is grand.