Today was yet another day when Leah decided she had no interest whatsoever in sleeping, save a 30 minute catnap in the morning. She spent the rest of the day grunting, crying, screaming, and generally just stressing me out. I had been really hopeful I would be able to get her to at least calm down before Devan got up from his nap but at 4:00 when his door clicked open, she was still hollering. I headed up the stairs to greet him and the first thing I saw was the tremendous amount of blood streaming down his face. It was a massive bloody nose, probably about his sixth in the past month.
The second he saw my face and his screaming sister, he started bawling hysterically. I sat the screaming baby down of the floor and guided bloody, crying Devan into the bathroom where I tried to pinch his nose closed and bend his head down. And for the first time ever- he wouldn’t let me. He thrashed his head around and wiggled, blood going everywhere. I tried to pull him into my lap and force his head down and then noticed that he was absolutely soaked with pee, and therefore so was I. In the background, Leah is screaming bloody murder loud enough for the neighbors to call the cops so I did what any sensible mother would do and raced downstairs to call my husband- “Get home, stat!” Hung up, and raced back upstairs where I talked Devan into at least laying down on the floor and then forced him to let me pinch his nose closed, all while he continued to cry hysterically and pull at my hands. I tried to calm him, but he would have none of it.
Ten messy and miserable minutes later (with Leah continuing to scream in the background) the nosebleed subsided and I surveyed the damage. Blood and urine soaked clothes for both Devan and I, blood all over the bathroom, and blood and pee soaked sheets on his bed. And a trail of blood drops on the carpet. I promised Devan ice cream if he would just calm the heck down, and then grabbed a very distraught Leah from the floor and soothed her enough to jam a pacifier in her mouth and place her in her crib. Miraculously, she stopped crying. I think Craig walked in right about then, as Devan was waiting downstairs for his ice cream and all was quiet as I was doing damage control upstairs. I’m sure he wondered why in the world I called him home from work.
He probably isn’t wondering now. Let’s just say the rest of the evening hasn’t gone much better. Good day, then bad day, then great, then terrible. Up and down. Day at a time.
I would be remiss if I didn’t take a short break from the insanity and thank our families for being so amazing the past few weeks. The food, visits, baby-sitting, date nights and more than anything the moral support has been life-savers for us. It’s too bad you all don’t live next door, though I probably would greatly abuse your generosity at times like these. In all seriousness, I don’t want you all to think we take you for granted because we don’t. The saying “it takes a village” makes a lot of sense when you talk about raising children and our village is filled to the brim with our loving family. (And someday, when (if?) we survive this whole rearing of young children ordeal, we will do the same for Devan and Leah and their sweet little angels.)