Bleh. I hate when Nick is gone.
He left this morning at 3:45am to catch his 6am flight to El Salvador. Meanwhile, my mom has arrived to help take care of Isaiah and my sister is moving in to the third floor upstairs. All the Factora women in one household – it’s like a huge slumber party for Isaiah.
Speaking of our favorite meatball, yesterday he officially turned 4 months old and looks every bit of it as well. According to my mom who saw him last 3 weeks ago, when she feasted her eyes on him again, she couldn’t believe the length of his legs. I didn’t know what else to say except, “I know. I know. I know.”
When I hold Isaiah, I feel like I’m holding onto a very soft baby elephant. There are days when I just can’t friggin believe how strong he is. My sister-in-law and mother were gazing at him yesterday in his car seat and Suzi commented,”You might want to start thinking about upgrading your car seat. Uh, his feet are starting to dangle over the edge.” I glanced down. She was right.
Guess what else Isaiah is up to? TEETHING.
Yes, TEETHING.
I was wondering what’s been up with the buckets of drool flapping out of his mouth the past two weeks and his munching on his hand immediately after he’s eaten and him barreling down on his bottom lip like he needs his gums to be in contact with something. Suzi said, “They may not be popping out, but that doesn’t mean he’s already teething.”
And then my mom asked, “Are you sure he’s not yet ready for solids?”
And that’s when my head exploded.
NEW CAR SEATS. TEETHING. SOLIDS.
I complained like a little girl to my mom, “What the hell are all those books good for if they’re not preparing me in time for Isaiah’s development? He’s not supposed to be teething or eating solids yet, say the books I’m reading.”
And the common sense advice reply, “Well, those book are written for the average timeline of a baby. Isaiah may not be average.”
When I consider how his onesies are 12-18 months and starting to get tight in length, that might make sense.
Meanwhile, Nick takes off to El Salvador for five days and I’m left with an elephant of a son and a stomach full of battery acid because of Nick’s international travels.
Screw the books. I’m listening to my mother.