Tag Archives: problems

To Cry or Not to Cry

Crying has to be the hardest sound for a mother to hear.  It rips my heart out.

Around 3 weeks, Evan’s tummy troubles began.  I have always been under the impression that formula is formula.  I definitely do not feel that way any more.  I started with regular ol’ En.famil in the yellow cans.  It didn’t suit Evan’s tummy, so I switched to the gentle version.  It didn’t really help and poop problems set in.

From the outside looking in, I find it completely weird to talk about poop.  When it’s my child and his well-being, it is a chief concern and I’ll discuss it with anyone who will listen.  It’s also hilarious that baby poop descriptions are liked to food.  Right now we’re at the peanut butter stage.  We want to be at the mustard-colored applesauce stage.  Until we reach it, Evan is very uncomfortable.  To get there, the doctor has put him on formula that we are calling “The Golden Formula”.  We were buying 3 lbs. of formula for $20.  Now, he’s on very special “medicinal” formula for $25 for 1 lb.  To put it into perspective, that only lasts 3 days.  That’s $250/month for this liquid gold.  So far, the liquid gold isn’t doing crap for him and I’m worrying about how we are going to continue to purchase this stuff for 5 more months.  Despite our dire financial situation, I’ve never considered applying for government assistance.  I have reach the point of desperation. I have an appointment in two weeks for help.

He’s got hard poop, gas and spit ups.  Uncomfortable babies cry, so Evan is crying a lot and sleeping a little.  I definitely believe in teaching a baby to fall asleep on their own.  From my experience, it takes only a few minutes of fussing for a tired baby to fall asleep.  For an uncomfortable and tired baby, it doesn’t work quite the same.  So now I’m torn.  Do I continue to try and teach Evan to fall asleep or do I use other methods to get him to sleep quicker?

Pacifier in the mouth, baby swing, rocking to sleep, holding and bouncing, walking, crying it out.  Some things work some of the time, but it’s like a puzzle trying to figure out what works on what days.

At this point, I’ve tried it all.  I’ve read that it’s normal for babies to cry up to 30 minutes before falling asleep, but it’s just too hard to listen to him cry for that long.  I want to fix whatever is wrong.  I’m taking this one day at a time, waiting for the golden formula to work and his little system to get stronger and more resilient.  It’s so hard…

 

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Come Together

For some reason, blog posts almost always generate a song in my head.  This one is from the Third Day song “Come Together”.

We had a crazy night last night.  It was short-lived craziness, but crazy nonetheless.  I feel compelled to write about it because of the way Jeff and I handled it.

Being a new parent is a daunting task.  Not only has your marriage completely changed and redefined itself, but you’re both also trying to figure out what in the world to do with each seperate issue that comes up with this new little person.  With the first child, I think that these things continue to come up throughout each stage of their lives.  What do we do about scheduling?  How do we get him to sleep?  Why is he crying so much? to… How do we keep him off of the fireplace?  How much tv should we let him watch?  Who should we allow to keep him? to…  Why is he screaming on the floor?  What should we do for punishment?  Why in the HELL HECK won’t he poop in the potty?  It continues.

I have to admit that I’m a planning control freak give us props and say that we did talk a lot about a lot of issues ahead of time.  There were so many things that we were prepared to handle when they came up.  We had our “playbook” down pat for the first 2 years.  Now, things are changing.  This whole discipline thing is starting to get the best of me.  More than ever, we have to make sure we’re on the same page.

Anyway…back to the crazy night.

We ate dinner at Co.rona’s after church last night.  I notice Carter is acting a little punchy coo-coo on the way over.  I don’t know how to explain “punchy coo-coo” other than to say it’s how my son acts when he is reaching the point of exhaustion.  Some behavior examples in this transitional stage from okness to total meltdown are: baby talk, shutting his eyes when you speak to him, kicking his feet and other mildly annoying toddler things.  So, I’m mentally preparing myself for what may be coming in front of about 30 of my closest friends from church and my MIL.

We sit down to chips and salsa.  Carter dips into the spicy stuff.  It’s hot.  He’s “got fire in his mouth”(his words) and there are no drinks yet.  MIL offers to go to the car to get his bag.  I’m certain he can wait a minute on the bevs to come, but I can see on her face that she thinks he’s in dire need of a drink.  She gets him a bottle of water from the car.  He takes a sip, sits it on the table then knocks it over with his menu.  Deep breath.  Clean it up.

Time passes.  Orders are taken.  Carter decides to get out of his seat.  Just so you know, that’s a no-no.  During a meal, you stay in your seat.  I tell him to get back in his seat.  I get that stare.  The one that 2 year-olds master.  It’s a stare of defiance and of stone-cold resolve to NOT do what you are asking.  So I play my cards.  “Carter, get back in your chair right now or you are going to have to sit in a high-chair.”  Same stare.  Follow through coming.  I go get the highchair and put him in it.  I’m feeling the stares from my MIL.  Hers is different.  Hers is the I-can’t-believe-you’re-going-to-do-that-to-that-sweet-boy-you-evil-mommy stare.

(On a side note: there are two types of people I hate to discipline in front of–good friends and family.  Hmm…I think that just about leaves me at home.)

He’s in the high chair.  He’s starting to cry.  We move on.  Then, a few minutes later I offer him a chip and he hits me.  No amount of “Stop” and “I don’t like that” is affecting him.  Jeff and I change places.  Things are good for a while.  Carter gets sleepier.  He rubs his eyes.  He rubs and rubs and rubs his eyes.  He rubs them some more.  He wiggles.  He lays over.  He kicks.  He cries.  He rubs his eyes some more.  He cries louder.  Jeff moves him away from the table.  He rubs his eyes.  He cries.  Jeff brings him back to the table and takes him out and holds him.  MIL asks if she can help.  Jeff says no.  He cries louder.  MIL asks if she can walk him around.  Jeff says no, but not so nice this time.  He cries and kicks and wiggles.  MIL asks me if she can take him home since she’s done with her meal.  I say ask Jeff.  She asks Jeff.  Jeff says no along with some other comments that did not make the blog cut.  MIL leaves.  I finish eating.  Jeff lets me take Carter.

We go to the bathroom and wash his face, eyes and hands, but he’s still rubbing them.  I take him outside to cool him down to give the other guests relief of the screaming and I literally have to hold his hands away from his face.  More crying and fighting.  Jeff comes outside after he’s done and takes Carter so I can go in and pay.  I give him the lowdown and hand him off.  He puts him in the car and pulls up beside the door to get me.

On the way home we talk and give little sad laughs about how the night went.  I ask if he told anyone goodbye.  No.  We laughed.  But what struck me, what gave me a warm feeling on the inside, was the way that we DID NOT argue with each other.  We DID NOT take out any frustrations on each other.  We did not look to the other expecting them to fix it or have all the answers.  There was a definite feeling of “we’re in this together”.  After it was all over, we could still smile.


Faith vs. Frustration

Great things happen in my life every day.  This blog is my counseling session.  You know how, when you have a counselor/therapist that you go to, you only go when you’ve got something to work out.  This is the essence of my writing.  It’s working out and revealing things that are sometimes hidden in the business of life.  Though we may be going through tough times, there is no doubt in my mind that God is in control.  In my heart, I have faith.  But, I have such a tough time wrapping my head around why, when I expect great things and financial blessings, I still get….well, met with frustration.

It’s been two years almost exactly now.  Two years since I stepped out on faith that we could make it on one full-time job that pays straight commission.  Shortly after, I got a part-time job working for my church.  HUGE BLESSING!  Though it’s no fault of God’s, we still have a lot of bills (1/2 of which is our house) and a lot of stupid debt from the past to cover each month.  One thing I can say is that I’ve come to HATE bad debt.  Bad debt is high-interest credit cards.  We have 3.  I’m sure that there are other forms of it, but for us, it’s the cards from our college years–totaling over $10,000 all together with interest rates at almost 30%.  I know, the stupidity makes me shudder.  Because we had a rental property that was foreclosed (it was a scam that we got hooked into about 3 years ago), the credit card companies hiked our rates when our credit scores went down and they won’t lower them.  We’re considered high risk creditors now.  Interesting that our good payment history is not taken into account.  Ah well, don’t know how I got off on that.

Here’s where my dilemma lies.  I know what the Bible says about blessings, tithing, finances.  We are as faithful as can be about tithing.  Inside, I fully expect each day when Jeff comes home to tell me about a big client or huge sale that he’s made.  I can see him getting sales awards.  He’s the smartest person I know.  He works harder than anyone I know.  So, it’s frustrating to me that we’ve gotten to this place.  My faith tells me that we’re blessed, but my circumstances continue to frustrate me.  (Again, let me insert that I KNOW it could be worse.  We’ve been kept from so much in these past 2 years.  But, I expect it to be BETTER right now.  I expected to NEVER miss a payment–NEVER not be able to pay for my house.)  We sold Jeff’s car. Used that up.  We used all of our savings.  We cut everything unnecessary.  We closed out my retirement account.  Used that up.  Now we’re here.  This place of TOTAL faith and no back-up plans.  Sadly, I’m finding that no back-up plans is scary for me.  I don’t WANT to be worried.  I don’t WANT to be scared.  But, I’m losing the mental battle.

A good friend had a FB post that said “What you expect is what you will get”.  But I don’t think I expected to be here.  Obviously, along the way, I have failed in some aspect.  I don’t believe that God makes mistakes, causes harm or could ever not fulfill a promise.  So, it must be me.  This week I am searching for how I failed at faith so I can fix it.