I don’t know how it’s the summer already. I still expect it to be cold outside as I start to get dressed in the morning because for some reason my brain thinks it’s still January or February. Things are continuing to go well with Ian. He suddenly seems so grown up. He “talks” all day long, loves sitting up (with support, of course), and seems so impressed with himself every time he learns a new trick. I’m impressed, too.
I find him talking to and laughing at empty walls and ceilings at least once a day. I always ask who he’s talking to, and at one point, it occurred to me that he may be talking to a ghost (I love myself a good ghost story). It dawned on me that maybe it’s Jillian. I feel so happy every time he does it. I feel kind of silly thinking it, and maybe all babies are fascinated with blank walls, but I’d love to think that Jillian is with us. If it is her, she’s apparently hilarious. I’m not surprised, considering what a clown Ian is.
Even though Ian is doing so well, we’re struggling with sleep. It’s clearly not Ian’s favorite thing to do. First of all, he seems to be scared of the dark. It makes him scream, even if we leave the adjacent bathroom light on. He’s okay during the night if we’re also in bed (he sleeps in a co-sleeper attached to our bed), but until we go to bed, he needs full light in the room. He doesn’t seem to be a fan of being alone, either, even if the lights are on. We’re not sure how he’s our kid, seeing how much Dave and I each enjoy our solitude. Oh, and naps? Worst thing in the world, unless he’s in my arms. It’s hard not to beat myself up for somehow screwing up his sleep, but I don’t know what I did. When he came home, he’d sleep anywhere without any issue, but now he wants to be with us constantly. Part of me would really like to be able to put him down for his naps, but he’ll have no part of it. On the other hand, I know that before too long, I’m going to be wishing he’d still sleep in my arms, so I feel like I’m short-changing both of us by trying to get him to nap elsewhere. We have a sleep consultation set up at a parenting center on Friday. Hopefully they’ll have some ideas on how we can all start sleeping a little better.
In other non-Ian news, we had a health scare with Baxter, our dog. He had some blood work done a couple months ago that showed his liver enzymes were elevated. He had more blood work, a couple of ultrasounds, and finally last week, he was supposed to have a biopsy. Before the biopsy, the vet took some x-rays, and he saw on them that Baxter had peritonial-pericardial diaphragmatic hernia. I’m not even going to attempt to explain it, but this covers it. He had surgery yesterday, which went well. They did a biopsy just to make sure there aren’t any other issues, but the vet thinks this was the only problem, and it turned out to be the best case scenario for him.
I’ve been kind of a wreck about Baxter’s health issues. When we first knew there was a problem that was getting worse as time went on but didn’t know what the issue was, my mind immediately went to the worst possible outcome. It occurred to me that maybe Bax was somehow sent to us to make sure we would be okay, and now that we’re okay, he had to go. I couldn’t think about it without bursting into tears. Losing him would be terrible, but pretty low on our tragedy scale. That said, that dog got me through 2010. I was home alone most of the time because anyone I knew who didn’t work had kids, and I wasn’t about to hang out with kids after losing Jillian, so he was my only companion most of the time. I don’t know what I would have done without him. There were days when I only got out of bed because he needed to be walked. I rolled my eyes at myself for thinking of that dumb, smelly dog as some sort of angel, but that’s exactly what he is to me. I was terrified to lose him, and it turns out that there’s a good chance that won’t happen for many years.
So things are going well. I’ve decided to include a picture of my little dude and me. As a random note, the rhododendron behind us didn’t bloom last year. I kept wondering if its lack of flowers last year was somehow connected to our sadness. I mentioned it to Dave last week, and look what happened a few days later. So appropriate.