Tuesday, May 6, 2008

Turns out, babies cry sometimes.

We spent this last weekend in Chico attending a delightful wedding. Wonderful couple, good food, and frozen margarita dispensers. Does it get any better? Although! All the kids at the wedding thought the margaritas were slurpees, and kept trying to drink them. I kept awkwardly telling their parents, "Umm! That's a margarita!" And hoping they got the idea. But really, wouldn't a bunch of drunk 6 year olds be kind of funny? I mean, not if their YOUR kids or anything...

The only crummy part, Warren was a total butt. As soon as we got to the wedding, he started wimpering. He wouldn't let anyone near him, least of all me. He only wanted Xtian. Which made me feel like absolute shit, but at least Xtian was able to calm him down. I'm usually just fine not being the primary care giver. But as the food source, I'm used to at least being able to comfort him with some boob-time. Saturday, though, he wasn't having it. Nothing advertises that you're a crummy mama like your kid screaming when he gets near you.

I know, he was overwhelmed and not feeling very good. But I hate when people see him during his first bad day in a long time and that's their only impression of him. For some reason I'm really bothered by people thinking he's a whiny kid, or a crier. Because he's SO not, and I just want folks to see him how I usually do: the happiest baby that ever was. Damn.

So, doctor's appointment and CT scan are scheduled for June 2. I will be doing my best not to FREAK THE FUCK OUT in the meantime.

So, in order to not obsess over the actual issue, I've been driving myself crazy trying to figure out how to tell the extended family about the cranio-fun. Don't get me wrong, most of my family members are the most supportive wonderful people in the world. But there are a few who are just pretty awful. And I'm wholly expecting a lot of "Well, what did YOU do wrong?" comments from the terrible folks. As though I'm not running over that shit in my head 100 times a day. I don't need it from other people, I'm quite good at blaming myself for things over which I have no control.

But I also can't keep it a secret, nor do I want to. But damn, am I not looking forward to judgmental garbage being thrown at me, or worse, behind my back.

It's fun to be in my head, bouncing from one freak out to the next.


jen said...

I know your immediate family will be really supportive. The others.... well.... you know.

Hugs I know you and Xtain will make the best decisions possible. :)

Jenn said...

I hate it when my happy baby gets all crazy when we go out in public. We've learned not to even DREAM of leaving the house around nap time.

Have something big and heavy on hand when you tell the not so nice family. Something you can throw!

Faith said...

My sister's kids were spitters...all three of them constantly spit up until they were 1 or so, and then it calmed down a bit. But until then...spit spit spit all the fucking time.

But mention that to my SISTER, and she's like, "WTF are you talking about? They didn't have any issue with spitting! They were perfect little angels, blahblahblahdeblah!"

Even the photographic evidence (babies wearing clothing covered in wet spots from the cleaning of spit up = not that great of photo subjects, btw) doesn't convince her that it was an issue. Every. fucking. photo. has them covered in wet spots from the spit clean up.

I think it was the fact that she was on drugs at the time that made her forget, but you'd think the photos would help her a bit.

But you know what I don't remember? If any of them were bitchy or dicky when I first met them. I just remember them being babies.

You're not a bad momma. He's just being a man. *sigh!*