Shaving my right armpit, I note that it may have been a bit too long in coming. I laugh at my own naivete that I would be able to shower every single day, not to mention apply make-up and blow dry my hair with a newborn in the house. Taming that beast, I lower the right arm and lift the left. I apply the razor only to find my pit shaven and smooth. Did I already do the left today? No, I always do the right first. Had I really shaved only one armpit two days ago when I last showered? Apparently so. But why the left? I continue to ponder these life mysteries as I begin to shave my legs, both of which have not been touched in weeks.
About 3/4 the way through the first leg, Kaya starts to fuss. I peak around the shower curtain and can see her face priming up for an intense wail. I madly finish off leg number one, peak around the curtain again only to be welcomed with a scream. She is hungry. I knew she would be but thought I might try to get a full shower in before she woke up. Rookie mistake. As a result, I leave the shower with 2 shaven armpits and one shaved leg. The second will have to wait a couple of days.
Kaya gets fed and then bathed. We both get dressed and are ready for the day. Phone and baby in hand, I am about to phone the public health office to make her 2 month vaccination shots appointment when me, Kaya, my phone and a blanket on the floor beside us are suddenly, with no warning, covered in puke. So much for our baths.
Stripping off my foul smelling clothes, I stand naked at the change table stripping and redressing Kaya. She is happy as can be while I curse under my breath at being cold, smelly, fat (I now have to go back to the closet and find something else that actually fits!), and exhausted. Finally dressed (and fed again) we are ready to begin our day. Walking the dog and a jaunt to the grocery store are planned until Kaya is happy no longer. With her face in a perpetual scowl and bellowing screams, I am reminded of an irritable Andy Rooney on a rant. Only I have no idea what Kaya is saying.
I have changed her bum, attempted to feed her, checked her temperature, tried to burp her and given her gripe water for gas. Nothing has worked. She is still bellowing. She does not want to eat, swing, go in her bouncer or take a nap. She cuddles up with me for the better part of the day and either sleeps on my chest (do not even think about setting her down) or cries. I am at a loss and figure she must be sick, although she has no fever. I checked.
Bal comes home and we both fret over whether she is sick or not and what we should do. Eventually, at around 8pm, I take her to the change table to change her diaper. I notice that her socks are a little tight so I take them off. Kaya looks straight up at me and smiles. That can not be it, I think. Tight socks can not be the culprit! But it is. They were cutting off her circulation and she had been trying to tell me all day. After taking them off, she was as pleasant as can be. I just became thankful that I hadn’t taken her to the clinic where the doctor would have checked her over thoroughly, only to discover the offending footwear! Tight socks: Adding it to the list of possible grievances to check for…