My novel long morning

On Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays and Sundays Chris doesn't have school, so he wakes up with the boy and they play around all morning, letting me sleep in---LOOOOVE it.

This leaves three days a week for me to to be a "big girl" (as my mother would say). Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays are up to me to get up and get started on the day with J boy in tow. He eats his cereal in the morning, which is no big deal when Chris feeds him. But for some reason, ever since he started teething, if I feed him his cereal he thinks it's a total joke, that I know what my job is, and gosh dang it, why won't I just nurse him!? So, it hasn't been going over too well... So frustrating. I usually end up either giving in and just nursing him, fight him to the death (not death--just the bottom of the cereal bowl), of just party like a rock star until Dad gets home to feed him! HA!

Today he ate a whopping 5 bites, and then was over it. I realized he was massively poopy (aren't you glad you are reading this post??), so I figured I would change him, and then try again. Of course, this was the worse dirty diaper in the history of dirty diapers, so I had his legs up trying to wipe the boy clean. Then, I realize that he is peeing...I pull his legs down to try and contain this mishap, and realize, "Oh. You have just peed ALL OVER YOUR FACE! ALL OVER." He of course is just staring at me, blank faced, like I was the one that peed on him. I couldn't help but laugh, then it was off to take a tub for my newly pee faced, snotty nosed, drooly, poopy boy.

We get to the tub, and that was actually the best part of the morning. He loves taking baths. He could flop around in there all day long and be satisfied. However, after what I thought was a sufficient amount of time playing around in the tub, I decided it was time to finish what we started: clothing and feeding.


He did not agree.


I think he lost 5 years of his potential life, due to the heart attack that he had on his bedroom floor. You would have thought I was torturing the poor soul if you heard him. Freaking out. Totally freaking out. If you know J, this is NOT like him. I can usually get him to do whatever I want him to do, with some kind of distraction, tricking him into thinking that whatever I'm trying to coerce him into was actually his idea in the first place. Today, that was not happening.

So, there I am battling it out with my 8 month old, trying to simply put on a stupid diaper. Yes, he got so stinkin mad, he peed on me two other times, wetting the two different diapers that weren’t even on his cute little chapped hide yet. After three diapers, and me literally pinning him to the floor with my legs, I finally managed to get the stupid diaper on. I realize at this point, there was no hope for putting clothes on at this exact moment. I picked him up to just cuddle him, and of course he clung on, just pathetically shuddering, trying to catch his breath. Poor little guy.

My heart is torn. Part of it is actually half broken for the poor thing. He just has a pretty traumatic experience. But the other half is actually pretty ticked that he wouldn’t sit still for a half a second for me to just hurry and put the stupid diaper together. What a little drama queen moment we just had. I ended up nursing him like he wanted in the beginning, and like a sad little puppy, he obliged, but pouting the whole time, looking up at me everyone once in a while and doing his little shuddering-loss-of-breath thing (how do you even describe that??), just to let me know that he was not happy about what just happened. After he finishes, he sits up in my lap, and actually lets me cuddle him (NEVER HAPPENS!). I decided to kindly stink my finger in his mouth to rub his gums (remember, he is teething EIGHT teeth right now!), and gosh, what a Kodak moment. He melted in my arms, just grateful to have me relieving some of the pressure his poor little mouth must have been going through. He again, was like a little puppy (not the dirty nasty kind, but the sweet brand new little baby kinds) just sitting there with his mouth wide open, drooling, snot every where from freaking out, and just staring into my eyes. I started to rock him, and sing him a song, and within a moment he was fast asleep.

What a morning! It started out as quite the hellish morning, and then ended with my sweet baby sitting in my arms, staring at his Mama. I’m sure if he could talk he would have said, “Thanks Mama. That’s all I needed.” It’s every once in a while I have moments like this, after hellish tyrants, my boy does something perfect, or I do something he thinks is wonderful, and then he gives me "the look". You know, the look that is saved just for the mamma. It melts my heart. I am the mama. At that moment, he loves me best; there is no one in this world that he would rather be with then me. I win.

This morning I won. I love that. I love that I own that boys heart, and he owns mine. There was no other thing I wanted to be doing this morning; no other place that would have been more perfect, then rocking my passed out, snotty nosed, teary eyed, teething son. I love you J. Thanks for making my heart full, and making me your Mamma.