Dog Guilt and Sleeping Through the Night

Ezra Grey is 2 months old.  The idea of that is unreal to me.  That my little man has been in this world for two whole months.  It feels like he's only been here a few days.  But he is wonderful and lovely and perfect.  Yesterday, he gave me the gift of sleep, by going 11.5 hours straight.  What more could a new mom ask for?

In other news, Ezra has also survived his first cold and his first round of immunizations.  The cold was passed around and we thought Ez would make it out unscathed, but just when we started to let out our sigh of relief, his nose started dripping and his voice turned raspy and my happy baby turned into an inconsolable mess who just couldn't get comfy.  As luck would have it, the doctor's office called to confirm his appointment later in the week and made room for him in their schedule when I mentioned his cold.  They gave me the go-ahead to give him Tylenol, which as it turns out, is a miracle drug for babies.  It turned my frowny, drippy baby back into the smiley, lovey, sleepy baby I once knew.  That, coupled with his new humidifier and baby Vicks made him fresh as a daisy.

By Friday, he was well enough for his immunizations.  I stood over him and held his little hand and we were playing a little cooing game.  He had a huge smile on his face when they stuck him with that awful, long needle and his sweet little smile slowly transformed into a scowl.  His little lip came out and he looked at me like I had betrayed him.  He totally thought I stuck him!  And he got two more in the other leg, which he screamed through, and they were covered with Bugs Bunny band aids.  I held him and rocked him and he arched his back as if to say, "Get off me, you mean woman!"  :(

A bottle later, he forgave me enough to let me hold him, but not enough for squeezes and kisses.  The next day, he mostly forgot about the whole thing.  Little peanut.  A friend advised that next time I turn away and after it's all done, go and pick him up--because then I'll be the savior.  Not the jerk who held him down.  Little buddy!  Lesson learned.

In other news... poor Bev.  Jason remarked the other day, "You used to tell Bev that she was an angel from God.  Now you don't even look at her."  Prior to Ezra, I worried about the introduction of a baby into the family for Bev's sake.  The books and blogs I read suggested that I prepare her by practicing ignoring her.  So sometimes I'd leave the house without saying goodbye to her.  Or I'd sit on the couch next to her without acknowledging her for a few minutes.  I laugh at myself now, thinking that's what ignoring her was. 

She used to be the apple of my eye, the love of my life.  Now I go whole days without even talking to her, weeks without touching her.  Ezra has replaced her in every way and the hardest part is that she knows it.  Sometimes I'll catch her looking at me longingly.  But then the baby will cry or the laundry will need to be put in the dryer and another day passes without giving her any love or attention.  Jason tries to fill in.  He makes a point to play with her and hug her, but it isn't enough. 

All of that is to say that I feel tremendously guilty.  I still love her but I just don't have time to love her.  I was her best friend, and I abandoned her.  I'm trying to be better, but this is definitely one part of motherhood that hasn't gotten easier with time.  I'm hoping it will in time.  And I'm hoping that as Ezra becomes more mobile and can flick food off his plate to her, they'll become best friends too.  Being a dog mom and a baby mom is a hard thing to juggle.

That's what's going on around the Vacuza homestead.  We're preparing for Thanksgiving and getting our home Christmas ready.  Hoping all of you have a lovely holiday!

Love,
Ashley