Sick Boy

My Little Man is not feeling well. It's a mortal sickness, meaning I assume it's going to kill me. We're not sure exactly what's wrong or if it is a combination of ailments making him so grumpy. Usually he's a trooper, a smiling, giggling tough guy, even in the throes of illness. It could be those terrible teeth trying to break through on top. However, if so, I am begging: just sprout already and be done with it! It could be the tail end of a cold that seems determined to keep its clutches on both mom and child. It could be a wicked diaper rash, that I'm sure is like sitting in rose bushes. Or it could be some phantom source of un-shininess. Babies really should come with instruction manuals, or troubleshooting guides.

Whatever it is, Noah's appetite doesn't seem to be suffering any. Last night, I quadrupled his usual cereal intake with a blended fruit and milk chaser. We were following the Babywise book for awhile to get him sleeping through the night. At this point he should be down to about four feedings. Yesterday he had seven. Noah is not very baby wise. Never has been. (We'll discuss Baby Wise in posts to come.) And the kid has expensive taste. Grandma got him some of those Gerber pouches of blended fruits and veggies. He devoured one a half of them in one day. Those things are not cheap! You're killing me grandma!

Justin suggested that perhaps he is eating so much because he feels extra cool sitting in his new highchair. Let's hope this is the case because mommy cannot keep up with the Little Vacuum that Could.