O, Weather, you tease
when I'm pants-less I despair
sweatpants, though, scorching
So the weather is doing that thing that Texas weather does. Hot, then cold, the blow-you-on-your-ass windy, then cold, then warm, then beautiful, then blow-trash-everywhere windy, then pollinating your face, then cold.
Seeing as how I spend pretty much 24 hours a day in one spot on my sofa, this weather thing isn't really THAT big of a deal. But on the days when we have to schlep Ike-a-saurus to the doctor, dressing him becomes an enigma wrapped in a riddle tied together with a pain in my ass.
Right now we're sticking with the onesie and just wrapping him up in a variety of blankets in the car seat. Then when we get to the super crowded waiting room at the rehab area of the Children's Hospital – the waiting room that as soon as you walk in you are stopped in your tracks by a palapable wall of Other People Smell – you can cover his face with the blanket, sign his ass in and then book it back out to the sidewalk or car to wait for his turn. Bundled, then de-bundled, then bundled. Shazam.
Really, it's not just dressing for the weird weather, it's also figuring out how to dress with a sort of homemade Tyvek suit – some kind of protective bubble allowing us to wade through thick and sticky hospital waiting room air without contracting a trach-colonizing bitch of a thing AND YET not suffocating him, melting him, or freezing him in the process.
All of this to say – we saw a dietician today! I hope it was worth dodging the guantlet of funk in the waiting room. But we left with new breastmilk fortification "recipes," a prescription for some super handy handicap parking things for the car, a tense but friendly-ish chat with the trach nurse about who exactly we want as a primary doc for Ike (hint: not the random new doc), and an important lesson that mixing formula, xanthan gum thickener and breastmilk "in the field" doesn't work very well.
Is there such a thing as battery-powered teeny-tiny hand mixer? Like a cappunchino frother with the ability to blend slime into milkshake-consistency sustenance? Cause I need that. Or, I guess, we could make up bottles at home and then drag around a bottle warmer with us? This whole traveling with bottles thing is a mystery to me.
Here are things we've tried:
a) Mix bottles at home, surround them with ice packs in the diaper bag, baby gets hungry, sit on bottle to warm it up, ass is not as hot as I think
b) Mix bottles at home, forget the ice packs, have room temp bottles in the car, have to throw them away after an hour because they haven't been kept cold, baby gets hungry, baby starves
c) Say FUCK THIS NOISE, breastfeed baby, baby aspirates and chokes, feel incredibly guilty, sit on bottle
d) wonder if a traveling bottle warmer is what we need
e) forget about d until exactly one week later, in the car with starving baby
f) repeat d and e over and over
In summary: weather is weird, causing us to not know how to dress the baby. This compounds the problem of possibly exposing Ike-a-saurus to exotic waiting room flora and/or trach-pollinating oak dander. Dietician will maybe help us get him fatter so those first two problems become moot at some point. Except that for the first two problems to become moot, the baby has to eat. This sometimes requires a bottle or two (or three) in the car or at the doctor. This requires two bachelor's degrees, logical thinking processes, equipment, buying shit, and swearing.
Between the weather and the bottles I am starting to not mind my little perch in the corner of the sofa. That's right. Pass me by, World. I am too tired to thwart you today.