Saturday, January 25, 2014

For lack of a burp rag...oh the irony.

Remember how I said in that burp rag DIY that burp rags are a new mom's best friends? Well, they totally are. Provided they're close enough to be of service. Let me regale you with my tale.

Last night, I woke up to the normal demanding cries of my hungry offspring for the first feeding around midnight. He wasn't in a very terrific mood--I've been getting the feeling that he dislikes having to wake up just as much as I do, as he's always more than happy to go back to sleep when he's done eating, and is grumpy more often than not, while awake--and I had to wrestle with him for about five minutes before he settled down enough to stay latched on and actually eat. I then propped my elbow on a pillow that I wedged between my side and the arm of the chair, ensuring that his head wouldn't slip, and leaned my head back to doze a bit until he was done.

But, of course it wasn't to be. I'm apparently not allowed to sleep on the job, because just a few minutes after settling in, he started squirming yet again, fussing and pulling away. When I'm awake, I can easily interpret this as a sign that he needs to burp. When I'm half asleep, I don't always realize what he's doing, and just do my best to get him to keep eating. This usually results in a rather cranky kid, until I finally figure it out, burp him, and then let him continue eating.

This time, after squirming for about thirty seconds, he managed to let loose a massive burp (without my help, obviously), and seemed to feel better. He went back to eating, but apparently that wasn't the end of it. Once more, a loud belch worked its way out, but this time I could tell it was different. That wasn't a dry run. As he finally restarted his meal with zeal, I felt the evidence of his loosed air-bubble slithering down my bare side.

It was unpleasant, to say the least.

But there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

For the same reason I didn't realize he needed to burp (namely that my body was functioning without the assistance of my brain), I hadn't grabbed a burp rag before I sat down. Now, as I stared longingly at the tall stack of them, just waiting to be dirtied, I realized that there was no way I could get to them, though they were two steps away. The reasons were twofold. The first being that standing up would disrupt the child who had finally decided to eat, and I didn't really want to restart the process. Secondly, and honestly, the deciding factor of my decision to stay, was that if I stood, the puddle of goo sitting very precariously in the crook of Wade's arm (currently pinned between myself and the pillow) would probably continue on its journey southward.

I was basically stuck between a mess and a bigger one.

So that meant I got to sit there, trying not to squirm, while Wade finished eating. When (finally) he did, I gingerly set him on my knees, where he stared at me quizzically as I attempted to clean up the mess with a combination of the pillowcase and a handful of Kleenex (the latter was of very little use). Needless to say, I could have used one of my newly sewn burp rags.

The moral of this story is that a burp rag in the hand is worth six sitting on the shelf just out of reach.

Good thing he's so cute, huh? We got family pictures taken, by the way...can you tell?

1 comment :

  1. Kara, I love your way of telling things so clearly that I can picture it in my mind's eye. I love your sense of humor, too! Your family photos are adorable. I especially like the one at the top of this post.

    Betty Figarelle