Fourth Meal = Fourth Poop
Last year I had most of December off from work. This meant that I took care of Henry while Kristen had fun at her job (oh, yes… fun). And while I love that boy more than anything, I have to admit that watching a 4-month-old for 12 straight hours isn’t that exciting.
There were a lot of naps and bottles and diaper changes and book readings, but in between, he pretty much just… sat there and giggled.
Does it make me a bad person that, looking back, it was a little boring?
Because this December, as I spent a lot of time home (both on vacation and bed-ridden with the flu), it was so much different, so much more fun. Henry as a toddler is fun all the time. ALL THE TIME.
While there are still plenty of naps (he still takes two, 2-hour snoozes) and a diaper change here or there, now we play and run and laugh and eat things with forks and spoons instead of bottles.
The only problem that we’ve had is that as Henry has begun experimenting with new foods (Mexican, Chinese, garlic-filled mashed potatoes), he’s been having some — how do I say it nicely — gastrointestinal issues. Every time he eats something with a little spice or a little kick, it comes back to haunt him (and me) later on. Many, many times.
I’m sure you’re all saying, “Well, don’t let him eat this stuff!” and that may be all well and good. But as Kristen mentioned earlier, when Henry spends most of the day walking around saying “eat, eat, eat”, you have to fill up his stomach with something.
And as we know, the more often you fill something up, the more often it has to empty.
But hopefully as he matures in all those exciting ways (like saying more words and running faster and trying to climb up onto anything and everything), his stomach will also begin to mature. Soon. Please.
