Little Tony has been going through some growing pains lately. He's irritable, doesn't want to be put down, and has also gone on a hunger strike. I'm not sure what's happening with him, but he's definitely been out of sorts. My best guess - growing and teething. Of course, he a dream at daycare and they can't fathom that he could ever be bad. Oh, he can be bad. Especially for me for whatever reason.
Day #1 - Monday: I got ready for work, got everything ready to go to daycare, made my coffee, and heard Tony stirring. I went into his room, and he was standing there smiling. We went to change his diaper and the most epic tantrum of all time ensued. I couldn't get his diaper changed, I couldn't put clothes on him, nothing. I made the decision that we would be working from home. He was running a slight fever all weekend, and maybe he was sick. I thought it would probably be best to let him stay home so he could fully recover (there are 2 cases of pneumonia and 1 case of RSV in his daycare room; better safe than sorry to stay away). He was ok, but fairly needy. He tore the house apart, as per usual, as I worked. He took a 3 hour nap, and was fine for the majority of the day. What I noticed in one of his SCREAMING episodes is that 3 teeth are poking through his super swollen gums. I would be mad, too, if I had that. Oragel, Tylenol, and teething rings on rotation for the rest of the day. Problem solved, right? Wrong. So very wrong.
Day #2 - Tuesday: Much the same as Monday only less of a tantrum during the diaper change. We were able to get out the door and to daycare. Picking up from daycare was a different story. Meltdown. He didn't want to put his coat on; he didn't want to put his hat on; he didn't want me to put my shoes on; he didn't want to leave the toys there. You name it, he didn't want it to happen. That night he refused to eat again, then went to bed at 6:30. I was relieved, but only for a few hours. He got up again. NO. This is the worst thing that could happen. Then, he didn't want to go to bed. Finally at midnight (yes, MIDNIGHT), I put him in bed with me. He fell asleep and I quietly transported him back to his crib when I was sure he was sound asleep.
Day #3 - Wednesday: The morning went fine. The day went fine. And then THE MOST EPIC TANTRUM OF ALL TIME HAPPENED. Tony's whole body was tense, every muscle contracted. Screaming to the point of losing his voice. Crying so hard he couldn't breathe. I've never seen anything like it. It was actually scary to see. I went to the only thing that I thought might call him down - a bottle. 8-ounce bottle number one went down in a breath. Then the screaming started again! He couldn't still be hungry? 8-ounce bottle number two down the hatch. Sixteen ounces in one sitting, the most he's ever had. Then he was right as rain and fell asleep about a half hour later.
Day #4 - Thursday: This is the grossest day I've had in the history of being a Mom. It all happened so fast. He woke up; I got him from his crib; we went to change the diaper. To my horror, blow out. Diarrhea blow-out. And, he was rolling in it, and I had my hand in it. It was everywhere. I immediately ran a bath. Forget the fact that I had to be to work in an hour. I was covered in poop. He went in the tub, and now there was poop in the water. It seemed like it multiplied. We got cleaned up, and went to daycare. I prefer to not think about this anymore.
Day #5 - Friday: There was an odd, yet familiar smell in the bedroom when I got Tony this morning. I know what that is - barf. Tony threw up at some point. Not baby throw up, but grown-up vomit. So, here we are again, having a gross morning. Doing loads of laundry before 8am. The good news is that Tony was in a fantastic mood! No tantrums, no meltdowns. Maybe he expelled whatever demon was in him. I hope this is the end of it. Correction: I really hope this is the end of it.
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