Yesterday afternoon they were predicting snow and then windy very cold conditions. Repeatedly I heard reports on the radio and TV weathermen saying we could expect severe cold and blowing snow leading to white out conditions, not so much in the city but in the outlying areas. Ben and Jen live far enough west to be considered an outlying area. Dangerous stuff.
I consulted with them. Ben was supposed to fly to Ohio, but his flight at 8 p.m. was cancelled. He rescheduled to a 7:45 a.m flight. Blizzard conditions were reportedly going to get worse around midnight. They were only predicting about 2 to 4 inches of snow, but all that wind was going to whip it around and make travel "dangerous if not impossible" into the morning hours.
Together we decided that I would spend the night at their house, so I could be here if Ben got to go to Ohio and Jen could go to work. We joked about my husband being stuck home alone, and the three of us stuck here all together with the baby, with no one going anywhere. We decided it could be fun even.
I woke this morning to find an inch and a half of snow on the ground, a blue sky, bitter cold temperatures that were dropping, but no wind. Jen told me Ben had left in the wee small hours, and his flight was expected to be on time. She was ready for work, and Nathan was ready to start his day. The blizzard conditions were postponed or cancelled. More snow predicted later today and overnight.
Good. But how do the forecasters manage to be that wrong, and still get big bucks to do their jobs?
So far, every time I have been with Nathan, he has been sweet and calm and seemingly contented. Today started like that too. He played after Jen left, and I read him two books. When he fussed, I changed him, put him in his crib, patted his back for a few minutes, and he went to sleep. When he woke two hours later, he smiled while I changed him, and then drank his bottle. About half of it.
I burped him, as usual, and everything seemed fine. But when I tried to give him the rest of his milk, he got squirmy, bit the nipple, and didn't really want it. Okay. I sat him up and burped him again. He played with my fingers, and acted like everything was fine. I tried the bottle again. He wasn't interested, so I put him down on his mat to play.
After a few minutes, he started to fuss. I picked him up, changed his diaper, and he squirmed and complained. I tried to burp him again. Then he started to cry. I walked and patted his back, but he kept crying. I tried the bottle again, when he calmed down a bit, but this time he screamed. So I walked him some more, and put him across my knees in case he had some air stuck in his tummy. Becca had colic as an infant, and that position seemed to help her. It didn't help Nathan. He cried. I walked with him, sang to him, showed him his reflection in the mirror, and he cried. I showed him the Mickey Mouse music player he loves, but today he hated it. I tried the duckie that plays music, and he hated that too. He cried for about 25 minutes before he belched loudly, and then relaxed on my shoulder. Within another 5 minutes he fell asleep in my arms.
Which just goes to show that you can't predict what a baby will do any more than you can be sure about the weather!
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