Someone is getting chubby. Love those cheeks, Gradycakes!
We are slowly returning to normal around here. Of course, it's not "normal" in the same way that it was before we had Graydon. It's a new state of normalcy, and I'm sure it's subject to change. But one thing I've found in my relatively short time as a mother is that as soon as you've got the routine down pat, it's bound to change, whether you have one child, two children, or ten. Children are a great reminder that change is really our only constant.
Previously on All Things New (cue montage of previous clips and voiceover which sets today's scene) ...
our family was in some distress. It was not pretty around here. You would think after a huge hospitalization and life threatening illness, we would just be brimful of delight to be home. And we were. But it wasn't like everything was miraculously great and easy.
For one thing, ten days of pumping had left me with notevennearlyenoughmilk for a baby that was trying to regain lost poundage. So that was tough. Moreover, Graydon didn't sleep unless he was held. At all. And he cried and screamed and fretted about the state of his world. A lot. Poor little man had been alternately hopped up on steroids, sedated into sleep, and tortured in between. It was a lot for him to take in and he struggled with it.And Addie...holy smokes. She was literally the kid in the aisles at Target writhing and screaming...and for no tangible reason. Not to mention, Tim and I were so tired. Sleeping just doesn't happen in a hospital.
BUT...
We survived. And now we're moving from surviving into thriving. And that is an amazing feeling. A few things have really helped a lot.
For starters, and most important of all, I've discovered that the G man will sleep on his own IF I do the following things simultaneously...
1) Swaddle him tightly
2) Place him in the swing on the highest setting
3) And turn on my vacuum cleaner.
Kid you not. It is strange, but it works. And my floor is really well vacuumed.
And as you can possibly tell from Graydon's picture above, he is eating really well and starting to get all chubby and delicious. I love it.
And Addie is ...well, she's still challenging. But in a more normal two year old fashion, as opposed to a completely freaked out and overloaded and traumatized toddler way.
This has, without a doubt, been the hardest eight weeks of my life. It has been life changing. I'm working on a post about that currently, but for now, this is just a brief update to say that we are coming out of the wilderness. Like most survivors, we're all a little worse for the wear...you know, we could use a few square meals and a good wash and a shave...but we are ready to savor life all the more for having been off the beaten track for a while.
Doesn't this just say it all? Check the dimples...how much do I adore this baby of mine?
