Sad baby is sad
After a week's grace period during which I thought he might've dodged it, Nico came down with MB's cold. At first it was just a slightly wet-sounding cough, but since it wasn't slowing him down at all I hoped he'd shake it off and be fine. But on Thursday night, the snot arrived. And poor Nico, he couldn't or wouldn't sleep. So for most of the night, I tried feeding him, singing, rocking, and just when he'd start to seem ready to sleep, he'd wake up and start screaming again. He didn't have a fever and his nose wasn't totally blocked, but I figure he was probably uncomfortable and annoyed. He finally, finally went down at 3 AM, and I can tell you without equivocation that I am officially too goddamn old to function on 3 hours of sleep. When morning arrived, I seriously contemplated skipping work even though all of my sick days were applied to my maternity leave against my specific (written) wishes. Luckily (or unluckily), I remembered that I had a program scheduled at 10 that no one else would be around to cover, so I dragged my zombiefied ass in around 9:30.
Even though he looked pretty pitiful upon waking, Nico seemed chipper enough by the time I dropped him off at my parents' house, so I guessed he felt a little bit better than I did. And if not, I supposed his six sharp little teeth would come in handy when he got a hankering for brains.
I keep getting surprised all over again that it's December, now. We had to start wearing winter coats for the first time this week, and I keep going, WTF, winter coats? and then remembering that yes, moron, it is almost Christmas. How did this happen?