That's the kicker

The first time Dennis kicked me (and I actually felt it) was just after his godfather had given me some Mozart cds to play for him in utero, shortly after I loaded the first one in the car cd player and it started to play. He wasn't much for major kicking episodes during the pregnancy. He was more of a whole-body-repositioning-flop kind of baby, and when we watched my stomach as I lay flat in bed at night, we could watch large portions of baby moving under my oh-so-stretched skin. We would guess at what we were seeing: that was a foot, or an elbow, and that big thing must have been a head or a butt... He would only kick me when I turned onto my left side (the side that the baby books and doctors tell you it is best to sleep on, for purposes of circulation and reduced workload on the heart, etc.). He HATED when I tried to sleep on the left side and would vigorously kick at the bed (through my stomach) until I rolled over onto my right side. I barely remember what those kicks felt like.

Until last night, when I brought him into bed with us because I heard him in his room coughing, and I was worried about him. We called my work (a 24 hour pharmacy) to get the correctly calculated yellow triaminic dose for his age and weight while he looked at the bottle and oral syringe and cried at us to hurry up and give him the medicine. (mostly it was loud "hhhhmmmmmmmm"s) He LOVES medicine. Scary, I know, but I think many babies do because kids' meds are so sugary. Heck, I might like taking antibiotics again if someone would prescribe that bubblegum flavored pink liquid amoxicillin for me. That stuff was great! At any rate, we underdosed to be on the safe side, and laid him between us with his head propped up to allow sinus drainage. This lasted about 3 minutes. He rolled over and laid across my neck, then he rolled over and flopped on his daddy, then he came back and rested his head against the portions of my face that I needed to use to breathe. When he finally got comfortable, he was perpendicular to us with his feet against my left side, alternating between kicking me and tickling my side with his toes. Deja vu. Only this time I was being kicked from the outside. And the feet are considerably bigger these days. He went back to his own room after an hour. He always does and always sleeps better. It doesn't comfort him to be in bed with us, it comforts me. And then it makes me REALLY uncomfortable, and he goes back to his crib. He never cries--he just stretches out as if he's thinking 'FINALLY! My own bed!'. You'd think I'd learn.

This was a tough day for Dennis. He woke up whiny, which is certainly not the norm for him. He whined when we put him in the high chair, whined when we handed him his cup of milk, and whined while David opened up the applesauce. He whined between applesauce bites and through his diaper change and while getting dressed. He whined when I left to go to work (I whined some too). David reported that he was a bit whiny for most of the day. I have a few theories. One--he's coming down with the cold that I have, and he didn't sleep well last night, and he didn't feel good. Two--those molars that I saw peeking through when we were at the doctor's office and she shined that light in his mouth have decided to move on through, and he didn't feel good. Three--he's a baby, and he felt like being whiny today. Could be any of the above. Tomorrow I don't work (hooray!) so I can spend the whole day with him. Maybe, hopefully, perhaps, (please!) he'll be in a better mood.