(no subject)
You guys I feel horrible. I am a very bad, no good, downright terrible mom. I'm not catholic, but is there some kind of a penance I can do to absolve myself. I'm not really into self-flagellation, but right now it seems appropriate.
Backstory: Okay so I've been complaining about Anders sleep of late. The dude's sleep is all out of whack so I felt that it was probably about time for another round of CIO. You all know I cannot handle the sound of him crying. Yea, I'm a wimp, so what. My grand solution to this problem has been to turn the fan on in my room and shut the door. In the past I've woken up to the sound of him crying even given this situation. If he really needs me I figure I'll hear him cry and go to him.
I woke up a couple of times last night, but I never heard him cry. When I'm awake I can always hear him cry regardless of how loud the fan is or how quiet the cry. I always hear him. So I figure that he must have done okay last night. Perhaps he's not waking up in the middle of the night to cry anymore.
This morning when I got up to take a shower I opened the bedroom door so that Jack would hear him wake up since I know Jack isn't as tuned into him as I am. Sure enough, he woke up while I was in the shower. I dry off and begin to nurse him. He loves to play this game where he points his finger at my nose, and I say "that's mommy's nose". I fool myself into thinking that he's actually learning something during these exchanges. This morning when he points to my nose I smell the horrible stench of vomit. "Did he throw up in his crib last night" I ask Jack who is, of course, clueless to the smell because his nose has been broken at least half a dozen times and no longer works properly. Sure enough, he goes back to check the crib and it is covered in puke. LOVELY. To make matters worse when I was getting him undressed to give him another bath this morning I noticed he had a bad case of diarrhea that squirted all the way up his back and was covering the inside of his pj's.
You guys he must have cried last night. I have to imagine that when he puked all over his crib it must have upset him terribly. I can just picture him sitting in his crib crying and wondering where I am and why I am not making him feel better. His tummy must have been bothering him something fierce last night. He refused his snack at daycare (which I just found out this morning) and his dinner last night. I sent my child to bed without dinner and then I didn't go to him in the middle of the night when he needed me to make him feel better.
I feel so bad today. I just wish there was something I could do. He doesn't seem to be mad at me or even fazed by the encounter. After I nursed him and Jack bathed him he was his happy, cheerful self. I know that should make me feel some better, but I just feel awful that I wasn't there for him last night, and that I had no idea his tummy hurt so bad last night.
Quick, tell me about a time when you were a no good, very bad mother. Maybe it will make me feel better. Probably not, but at least I will know that I'm not alone. Misery loves company don't you know.