11.22.2011

well, no one else is gonna love you like i do


Ethan is five months old today. He's also still so very sick and our lives lately have been as crazy as his hair. (By the way, excuse that maniacal mane of his. By ten this morning, he'd already had two streams of vomit wind up in his hair, followed by consecutive hair washings. It's not a good day for beauty and proper grooming skills in this house.)

He weighed in on Monday at nearly 18 pounds and is still in his size 6-9 month clothes but starting to trickle into his 9 month wardrobe as well. We have one more month until he starts solids and he's doing great at making the (albeit slow as molasses -- my fault, I fully admit) transition to his crib. He's starting to really love playing with toys and I mean that in the sense that he isn't just clanging, shaking or sucking on toys, he's getting really into actually playing with toys. He loves his Exersaucer and is doing a fabulous job at figuring out how to utilize all of the features.

However, five months is full of congestion and runny noses and -- god help me -- the nebulizer. He's started to recognize the sight of the albuterol packets that go into the nebulizer and begins screaming accordingly. Having to hold the mask to his nose and try to calm him as he wails in unmatched hysteria has been one of the greatest challenges I've faced in some time. It's heartbreaking. He's managed to learn how to pull the plug out of the nebulizer and by the time his breathing treatments are done, I'm both exhausted from the struggle and covered in the result of Ethan's hysteria and protest (see also: vomit -- and lots of it).

It was a rough "month birthday" for Ethan today, but we finished it off snuggling and slow dancing to Taylor Swift in our living room. I wish I could blink my eyes and make him all better and send off the nebulizer to a land where it's never to be seen again but I can't, so I'll just hang onto hope and optimism and love. It's been five wonderful months and even as I trek to Target for more Boogie Wipes with vomit dried down the back of my neck, I couldn't possibly feel luckier.

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