Being sick + bored babies.

I was sick Monday and Tuesday of this week. Wednesday, today, I’m feeling a lot better though not 100%. 80%? 85%? In the midst of this sickness–which I’m trying to figure out the name for (was it flu? was it a touch of mastitis? a plugged duct? just a really wicked cold?)–I vowed to never eat another bit of junk food again. Not a morsel! Not a crumb! I will be as driven as they come! I will eat only the finest fruits, vegetables, and meats and nothing more! The willpower of a saint!

Today I was really tempted by a cookie at this farm where we buy our milk. I didn’t buy it, no, but I was really tempted and we’re like one day out from me feeling like death.

It’s just that a) I like to pinpoint exactly how I got sick–like the moment and place in time the germ actually entered my body and b) I really want to come up with the surefire way to avoid getting sick ever again. No carbs? No sugar? No starch? Eat raw ginger and garlic every day? Bathe in a mixture of bone broth and my own breastmilk?

On another note, Anders-badger (the way I feel I ought to reference him when he does certain things he does and does not give one shit) has more determination than Leonardo DiCaprio in The Revenant when it comes to sleep. That boy. I say it ten times a day, “It’s a good thing you’re cute.” Cause holy moly is he cute. He walks now, and he has this sort of extra wide gait, like he just got off a horse, and this loopy sort of drunk swagger like he’s seconds from falling at any time, but always righting himself before the fall, and he’s so proud of himself, and I pretty much (clicheeeeee!) want to eat him all the time.

But wait, before I go airing my baby-sleep grievances, let me cut the boy some slack: he was a gem all over Europe. Seriously, I can’t think of a time where he just cried and fussed without having a very legitimate need that could easily be met. Planes, trains, and automobiles all over Italy, Switzerland, and England and he’d just be… chill. But then, he came home and I swear, I think he’s just bored. So he’s like, “Oh, this chair looks fine for climbing? And would it be alright if I got inside the dishwasher?? No? Doing it anyway. And naps? I’m thinking… ten minutes today. Once you disengage your person from my person, I’m good! Anders-badger don’t care!”

Sleep and babies. I’ve written about this before.

It didn’t occur to me until writing this right now that it’s probably just boredom! He’d never really experienced idle time in this home (let alone winter in this home!) since being an active baby. Last year he was a mushy little nursing thing. He learned to crawl while abroad and then it was pretty much (little to no exaggeration) three months on the go. I came home to SIT for the FIRST time in THREE months and he’s all HOW SHALL I FILL MY TIME. I CAN CRAWL! LET’S BURN THIS HOUSE TO THE GROUND!

I know now, having been through this before, he’ll be sleeping better one day, and probably one day soon. Those milestones, I also know, come long before I’m ever ready for them. So wake up, little dude. Mama’s here. But, maybe, if I’m feeling really ill, you could just take a really decent nap?