sputnik; five months in orbit

Five months. Finally, it seems. Last month was a long winding road of an incredible sickness that we still have not reached the end of yet, so I am just thankful that we’re in NOVEMBER and at FIVE MONTHS.

I finished the last post with an epilogue, which now seems moronic. Way to tempt the gods there, Carrie. The Monday after I wrote that, Sam went back to daycare, and I received The Daycare Call at 11:00 — he was throwing up again and gray in color. Five phone calls and a few decisions later I sped up the interstate with him to Children’s Downdown, pulling over once when I heard Sam heaving again in the back seat. That day I found out just how fast I can come to a safe stop, scramble to the back seat, zip a baby out of their carrier then bust into tears.

We waited at Children’s ER for six hours while Sam slept, ate, and fussed while his color came back to normal. By the time we saw a doctor, he was deemed “fine” and home we went.

And so Sam was fine. He ate, he slept well, he developed a diaper rash from hell, but no more barfing. Yay.

This past Monday, back to daycare he went (we kept him out all the previous week just to be on the safe side). Promptly at 11:00, The Daycare Call came in — more barfing.

A-ha.

The only difference (besides being in daycare itself) Sam had been exposed to is rice cereal, which he had begun to get at daycare but not much at home, and none at all during the last week that he was out of school.

When I got to The Daycare, his teachers all agreed the cereal had something to do with Sam’s misfortune. Sam, for his part, was happy to see me, his smiling blue eyes contrasting sharply against his ghostly white skin.

My poor baby son might have inherited my food allergies, though a diagnosis has yet to be reached. We go see an allergist — my allergist — next week. Until then, it’s milk only for Sam, who is going to bed later and waking up earlier . . .

There was a two-week span of time before all the crazy when Sam was starting the cereal and loving it. He’s a hungry boy.

Ahh, memories.

Over this past month we worked with Sam more on rolling over. The Husband and I tried to be more proactive about giving him some much-needed tummy time, even with clumsy Lydia bouncing about. This always ended with fussiness after ten minutes or so, but we kept plugging at it.

We also dragged out an old favorite: the Excersaucer, a.k.a. Mission Control. Sam was a bit befuddled by it at first, and he is much more amused when Lydia comes by to punch all the buttons and make the thing buzz with sound. Surprisingly, she doesn’t seem too upset that Sam is in one of her toys. Apparently Sam confiscating her Bumbo was much harder for her to swallow.

Halloween snuck up on us at the end of the month. The Girlie went as Frankenstein. I thought about gussying Sam up as a ghost due to his tendency to gray out after a barfing spell, but I stuck with my original plan I had back in August and dressed him as Aang from Avatar the Last Airbender (the cartoon not the movie).

Lydia was so fascinated with the paint on Sam’s head I had to paint something on her, too.

Later that evening, Sam gave us a treat: he finally rolled over, twice. We’re slowly but surely climbing all those little mountains.