I was chatting with Lauren yesterday about how many of the offical pediatric recommendations have changed in the six years since I became a parent. It's crazy. Like: we weren't supposed to give baby Camilla peanuts, egg whites, shellfish, strawberries, and probably some other things I'm forgetting. Now it's anything goes! (Except for honey which has botulism which infants can't digest. That probably won't change.) Since we don't have any family history of allergies, our doctor said we could give Linus and Ambrose whatever food we wanted. So different from the horribly restrictive time way back in 2007.
It feels silly, since I'm still a pretty youngish newish parent myself, but I can now sympathize with people from my parents' generation (yes, including my actual parents, although they're awesome generally) who are tempted to roll their eyes at us new parents intent on following all the rules to the letter. The rules change! "The newest research" is a variable concept! Who knew?
Our pediatrician's office has been getting way too many phone calls from me recently, because Linus and Ambrose have had, by my estimate, at least six colds since Camilla started school at the end of August. Their poor congested heads couldn't take it, they each ended up with an ear infection, and it turns out that along with getting fevers they both throw up when they have ear infections, and amoxicillin worked for Linus but Ambrose needed a stronger antibiotic, which he hates, and this week (just as Linus's antibiotics were finished and Ambrose's are finishing) they have ANOTHER cold. I'm so sick (heh) of feeling their foreheads for fever and dealing with their extra neediness and fret fret fretting about secondary infections and all that infernal stuff.
I always say that I'm happy as long as no one has to be hospitalized. Maybe that's not true. I'm happiER than I was during Linus's hospital stay last winter, but it is still zero fun to have my babies grumpy and clinging to me, and negative amounts of fun to be worried about them. I want them to be healthy so they can be happy so we all can be happy. Bah.
It's funny in a "dang, why does it always work out like that?" way that the kid who has needed the longer, stronger dose of antibiotics is Ambrose, our drug-hater. He gets 10mLs of Augmentin twice a day, and it takes both of us and some serious grit to get it into him. And his medicine is flavored! It doesn't even taste that bad! (Yes, I tasted it.)
Meanwhile, Linus happily sucks down his 5mLs of unflavored amoxicillin and then, like, begs for more. If he sees me dosing up Ambrose's syringe of meds, he'll chase me down to try to get a taste. We jokingly call him "the junkie." If he gets a high fever and needs ibuprofen and acetaminophen alternated, he's thrilled.
I don't *hope* that Linus is the one who gets the bad ear infection [if there is a] next time, because that would be wrong. But it'd certainly be easier if it worked out that way.
On a much much MUCH happier note, three weeks ago we started nightweaning the babies. And it's WORKING. (Despite their having been sick this whole time, so it's pretty much a miracle. I credit St. Jude.)
Bryan must've been afraid - unnecessarily - that he hadn't quite locked up the Dad of the Year title for 2012, so he volunteered to deal with Linus and Ambrose between midnight and 6am each night while I slept with white noise and earplugs in the other room. The first night was really bad; I think he was up from 2-6am, but since then it's gotten progressively better.
And (lean in, because I have to whisper this) in the past week they have both slept through the night, multiple times. Ambrose twice, Linus five or six times. I nurse them (often a dream feed) before I go to bed around 11pm and last night they both slept through until 6am. They never woke Bryan once!
We are so happy about this we don't even know what to do with ourselves. Camilla and Blaise were never successfully nightweaned and sleeping through until around 22 months, so this is new territory for us. It is amazing. I am truly having trouble believing that it actually worked.
Our little dudes are 17 months old today, and they are finally both walking competently.
Ambrose was staggering around by 15 months, and Linus was taking confident steps by 16 months, but this is the first month I can say we have two real walkers.
(Thank the Lord, FINALLY.)
Camilla walked at 13.5 months and Blaise at 12.5 months, so when I was looking forward last spring, I assumed Linus and Ambrose would be walking this summer. June, maybe, or July at the latest.
But we got to 14 months. Nothing. Not even close. Okay, they were born six weeks early, so maybe by 15 months. And Ambrose came close; he was a pretty good walker by late August. But Linus, whose entire motor development was delayed by (we think) his severe anemia last winter, took until nearly 16 months before he'd even try to take a step on his own. It's just been in the past couple weeks that he's gotten the confidence to walk more than he crawls, and in the last few days that I've seen him walking almost exclusively.
I should be used to it by now, because this is common, but it's confusing to me: people in general (by which I mean other parents, especially older ones who accost you in the grocery store) seem to think walking is BAD.
Why is this?
"Just wait until they start walking!" they say. "You're gonna be in so much trouble."
Whatever, grocery store shoppers. I LIKE it when my kids walk. I love toddlerhood. My life has gotten easier and better each time my baby started walking. Yes, it's a little more daunting now that there are two of them to run in opposite directions, but it was exhausting carrying them both around. Now that they can propel themselves places, my back will enjoy the break.
Besides, is there anything cuter than chubby-cheeked little ones who were babies mere minutes ago walking around like real adult people? I think not. It slays me, the cuteness of it. I'm thrilled.
And of course, Linus and Ambrose, who have been enjoying throwing us curveballs since the moment they decided to split into two of them (or however that worked. I like to imagine them colluding. It feels accurate) walked late but were prodigious in developing all the gross motor skills we DON'T want them to have.
They climb everything. EVERYTHING.
We have to be vigilant about keeping all the chairs pushed in at the table because before you turn around, one of them will be on top of it. Standing on it, shaking all the salt out of the shaker.
I realize that this is normal toddler behavior, but Camilla was a ridiculously tractable toddler (seriously, we told her "no" once and she'd never do it again) and Blaise is the kind of kid who can't be bothered to make mischief when there are so many blocks to be carefully stacked in complex patterns (and so little time). So this is new to us.
See, right here. These are some cute little guys (Ambrose on left, Linus on right) but if you look closely you'll see they are standing on a plastic bin. Standing on the floor would be too boring.
Oh, we are in trouble.
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