All Roads Lead to Fussytown

Parenting an infant means today may very well be absolutely NOTHING like the day before.

Yesterday Spencer spent almost the entire day crying to the point of utter hysteria. The normal obsession with his bladder and colon behavior became consumption as he did not have a movement all day. I cursed Guy for changing formulas in the middle of the night (he seems to take measures I do not approve of when I am sleeping), and cursed the whole day as I could not take a shower or really do anything without crying. I couldn't leave his side basically and it was horrible - I could have let him cry cause everyone tells you to - that infants just need to cry, but I couldn't stand it. I worried that something was hurting or making him uncomfortable and I didn't want him to be alone. I was like a zombie by the time Guy came home and he insisted that I take time for myself and actually go somewhere. I didn't know if I could actually leave the house, but then he pooed. This relieved me so much I cried. Infact, I sobbed with joy.

I then went out for my first drive alone since I was pregnant. It's been almost a month since I drove my car. It was weird getting out. I felt like an astronaut landing on the moon. It was also 9pm at night and I was exhausted.

All I wanted to do was pick up some wheat bread. On two separate occasions during my recovery and seclusion, both my mother and my husband tried to go out and get some wheat bread with the groceries and they both brought back the kind which is full of grainy nuggets.
YUCK.

First stop was Borders, where Guy and I should be treated like royalty at this poing for all the money we've spent there over the last 5 years. I walked in and as I made my way to the magazine rack to look for Q, I suddenly realized I haven't read anything (save an article in the NY Times about David Sedaris while eating a bowl of cereal) in like two weeks.
I walked around the store trying to imagine what I would possibly be sitting down to enjoy any time soon. I bought some poetry by Bukowski (it is my mission to own every book of his), Sid & Nancy and This Is Spinal Tap on DVD. Oh, and some thank you cards, and a little book for Spencer. Normally I'd figure out all sorts of stuff, but I couldn't really think. I felt I'd be more useful if I went and picked up groceries we needed. I don't think I've ever been so conscious of my use of time.

Going to the supermarket seemed much more logical when all was said and done.
Especially since I couldn't get the wheat bread out of my mind. I also picked up more pacifiers since the ones we have keep finding refuge in Guy's bathrobe pockets. I think I could probably spend much more time at Superfresh or Genuardis than in Borders.

When I came home, Spencer was sleeping and Guy was working. I was delerious.
Guy thought he'd discovered that Spencer absolutely prefers to be wrapped up tightly in a bundle. It seems to make him go to sleep. Not sure though. Every day we think we've figured out what it is that will keep him from screaming bloody murder. One day it's the sling. The next day it's a pinky. The day after that, Extreme Swaddling, today, I think it's the combination of all those things.

I will not acknowledge the "mix and match" formula and milk feedings as contributing to Spencer's ability to nap today. It appears I will have to stay up all night to make sure his late night feedings are kept consistent, otherwise, some people in this house might try Absinthe and hot chocolate.

One good note: We gave him his third bath last night, and he didn't cry a note. He was the perfect baby in the bath. I think mothers are more predisposed to osteoporosis due to the amount of shoulder shrugging they do.
It's all we seem to be able to do with these strange little lovey beings in our midst turning everything we know upside down.

Fashion Note for the day: Mothers need the fashionable equivalent of the toolbelt. Most sweatpants and leisurely outfits for home don't have pockets so you need something to be able to carry things like tissues and pacifiers etc. when you're up and about the house.