Suddenly Molly and Jack are really aware of the world around them. They fuss less if they can physically see that you are making them a bottle. They also get jealous of each other, which is comparable to two Alpha Male Apes trying to assert their authority by grunting, whining, crying and chest thrusting at each other.* This is both entertaining and annoying. They are also starting a little bit of sign language. Jack holds up his arms in the air when he wants you to pick him up** and Molly openly laughs and giggles when she pees all over the change table while I'm working on getting her a clean diaper, cause she's kind of a jerk. They also study faces intently, trying to figure out how you're saying what you're saying, facial expressions and whether or not they know you. Exciting? Yes, until this past week when they both got colds.
When I was expecting I was worried about not being maternal enough. And for the most part I've done well, but then I hit a major road block - my son when he is ill. So many of the things that I love the most about Jack became my kryptonite the second that cold virus took hold. Molly, much like her mother, gets incredibly ill-tempered and angry when she's sick. Oh, she'll whine, suck down baby Advil like it's going out of style, but for the most part wants you to leave her alone to wallow in her misery. I get it, I appreciate it and I've totally been there. Then there's Jack.
Years ago I learned that relationship wise I work much better with a Beta Male. I just didn't know what it would be like to raise the most emotional little boy in the world, a child who looks like me, but acts like my husband, but ten times more sensitive - it's weird. Jack loves to be cuddled and tickled - ALL THE TIME. For the most part loud noises make him cry.*** When he's upset, Jack doesn't just cry, he whimpers like a little puppy dog in a way that makes you feel like a hundred unicorns will die for every minute that you don't give him exactly what he wants.
Enter the cold virus. Last week my son wasn't just teething up a fountain of drool, he was also pouring out a bucket load of snot and sneezing and coughing constantly. He was a disgusting little sack of germs who wanted to cuddle even more than usual because he didn't feel well. He remained incredibly gross for about five days no matter how many times I gave him a bath or squirted saline up his nose. I found it really hard not to make the exact face I get when I witness someone hork a loogie on the sidewalk each and every time he needed more cuddle time. The worst part is he can read my face now and I am not a good poker player. Cuddle time was like playing a game of chicken with a bag full of kittens, I knew I was going to lose. Every time I picked him up he'd sneeze or cough on my face or wipe his snotty little nose on my shirt. For the record: babies have no manners, good luck teaching them the elbow sneeze. They're both almost 100% now, but for the record, if there is ever a Zombie Apocalypse and Jack gets infected, my ass is grass cause that puppy dog whimper gets me every time.
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*Poor Jack hasn't figured out that he's the Beta and Molly is the Alpha.
**Chris thinks I am totally reading into this one and that Jack makes random Frankenstein arms all of the time and has pointed out that he often falls asleep with his chubby little arms in front of him like a little cherub mummy.
***Except yesterday when I dropped one of our good bowls onto the ground and it smashed into about fifty pieces he thought THAT was hilarious.
Love this post, Sara!
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