'Twas the night before 5 months

I thought I was going to cry the first time Corbin got his shots. He was 2 months old and lied starry-eyed, gazing at the ceiling of the exam room. Then, the first needle penetrated the flesh of my newborn babe. The look in his eyes was of shock, confusion, and pain.  Mommy, why are you doing this to me???

I wanted to punch the nurse. And I did so in my thoughts.

The second go-around came at 4 months old. This time, I looked away, then swooped in like his savior and smothered him in cuddles and kisses.

The nurse didn't get thought-punched.

But now we are at the ripe ole age of 5 months. Today, 5 months ago, I evicted the little parasitic angel from my uterus. I sure hope, for his sake, 5 months is better than 4 months. We entered 4 months with shots, sleep regression, and the beginning signs of teething. It's been no bueno y no divertito for mommy (for those who didn't take high school level Spanish, that should be "no good and no fun").

But last night, the eve of 5 months, 4 months decided to go out with a bang.

It started with naps. Corbin has always fought naps. As soon as he realizes you're trying to "make" him go to sleep (oh tiny, yawning, fussing, eye-rubbing baby, how horrible am I for offering you soft music and a blanket?), he starts the "alligator roll" and I-just-got-a-shot-in-my-thigh style crying. But yesterday was different. In a passive-aggressive protest to naps, he went right to sleep. Peaceful. Sound. Sleep. But as soon as I would even THINK of laying him down, he was wake. Wide awake. For the next 6 hours.

Faking Sleep?

Then came the park meltdown. This was going to be yesterday's blog, but just as I put an over-tired Corbin to bed and sat down to write, "it" happened. What is "it?" Last night was "it."

Not a happy camper

Just minutes after I settled down, feeling the success of conquering Corbin's sleep battle, Josh came bumbling through the front door, setting off our furry alarm system, which prompted Josh to yell at him to be quiet. By our bedroom door. Where Corbin was sleeping. I was sitting in the nursery, thought-punching my dear husband, when Corbin woke up crying.  Nay, screaming.

It would continue like that for the next 1.5 hours - Corbin screaming, and me frantically bouncing between treating gas and teeth pain.  For gas, we tried: burping, bicycling legs, gas drops, and tummy rubs. For teeth, we tried: teething tablets, ora-jel, tylenol, cold teethers, and frozen wash cloths. Major fail.

I called for backup. First my mom. No answer. Then my best friend. I think at the end she must've hung up with pity and a prayer because veteran moms know all-to-well the signs of a sleepless night ahead. And we were heading full speed in that direction.

Sadly/fortunately, the poor little guy (and mommy) eventually tuckered out, and we both passed out on my bed. Something about sleeping in mommy and daddy's bed always makes it better. My little guy woke up smiling and chatting away, and mommy woke up looking/feeling like death on a cracker. But today my baby is 5 months old, smiling, happy, and healthy, so I'm okay.

And, needless to say, I thought-punched 4 months in the jugular.

It's a good thing he's cute.