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It is going to be a long long day.

Jakob's full-blown fussies began by 8:30 this morning. At 8:40, Werner rushed out the door, comandeered the car, and fled. He left me behind with the wailing infant.

To be fair, he did have legitimate reasons to run. A dentist's appointment, for one. Followed by a hair appointment. Then off to the 'burbs to pick up the part for the damn dryer blower that, by rights, we've already paid for. Since he has escaped, I've asked him to buy some cat grass (a.k.a. "Phoebesalat") and to pay in person for a "Mother Goose" programme in which I've enrolled Jakob and I.

{sigh}

I need a hair cut, too (my salon was damaged by fire, but my stylist has set up temporary shop), but when can I get away to do that? My last haircut was in January, and that was the first since July of last year. And I suppose a dentist's office isn't surprised (though probably not entirely appreciative) when a mother brings a screaming baby to her check-up, but wouldn't be so understanding of fathers doing the same.

Anyway. After 4 days of loving rice cereal and wanting more and more, today we thought we'd try barley cereal. I don't know if he was miffed that it wasn't rice cereal on the spoon or what, but I have just had my first food battle with Jakob. Full on crying and screaming with the "I hate you" face. I'd pumped this morning, so he was getting his breakfast milk in a bottle. I ended up having to give him the bottle to calm him down after only about half the cereal. Every once in a while, I pulled away the milk, shovelled in another mouthful or two of cereal, and then gave him the bottle again. Somehow, he got through both.

Still he was cranky.

I gave him gripe water. I figured, if he didn't like the taste of the barley cereal, maybe that would help clear the taste from his mouth. Come to think of it, that must have been a thought borne of desperation, because I'd already cleaned out his mouth with a washcloth, as I do every morning. (That's something he actually really enjoys, and is usually enough to pull him out of a cranky mood. No luck today.) Then, running out of ideas, I gave him some Tylenol. At 6 months, there's gotta be a tooth on the move somewhere.

So, by 9:45, I was beside myself. Wanting to at least get the dishes done, I've plopped him in his swing and switched on Baby Bach. In exchange for the high price of guilt, it will buy me a few minutes of peace.


Update: After a break, I gave Jakob a bath. He fell asleep after nursing, and napped for two hours. Werner got home, we had lunch together before he left for his office. When Jakob woke up, I nursed him and cuddled with him for a bit. Brought him upstairs for a diaper. Of he'd had a blow-out! I neither heard nor smelled the poop. And as I was cleaning up, he threw up and soaked me, so I had to change, too. And the day still isn't over...