Day 183: Everything changes

I went to a new moms' group a few times after Maddie was born and one day we were talking about all of the unwanted advice and opinions we've been given - which range from the standard "Your baby looks too hot/cold/hungry/tired/fat/thin/etc," to my personal favourite "Don't stand so close to the microwave with her!" Anyways, this led to discussions of those nuggets of wisdom that were actually helpful. One woman said that her friend summed up motherhood in two little words: everything changes. Ain't that the truth.

The fact that everything changes is reassuring on those days when Maddie is out of her mind and driving me out of mine because I know that tomorrow it will all be different. But it can also be incredibly frustrating because just when you think progress is being made you find yourself on a sudden and steep downward spiral back to where you were three months ago. I can pretty much guarantee that as soon as I say that Maddie has been doing something really well - sleeping, eating, playing, sitting, smiling, whatever - the next day not only will she not be doing it well but she won't be doing it at all. And she'll act as if she's never even heard of it.

Let me give you an example. Maddie has always been a big spitter. She spits up constantly. Let me repeat that so you get the full implications of what I'm saying here. She spits up constantly. As in, she has to change outfits five times each day. And so do I. And so does anyone else who comes within a foot of her. As in, the sound of vomit splashing on the floor at the mall or on the bus or at the lawyer's office is as familiar to me now as the sound of my own name. This is not a huge problem, but it does get a bit irritating. At first I thought she had a faulty valve somewhere, but no, apparently she is what is called a "happy spitter." Well, isn't that sweet. In any case, this is all supposed to subside at around 6 months, and in the past week or so it seemed like that was exactly what was happening. Miracle of miracles, her food was actually staying in her little belly. But then I made the mistake of commenting on this to my mom and it's all gone to hell since then. We were on the ferry on the way home from the island yesterday and she soaked through two outfits, four spit cloths and my new skirt. We left a trail of vomit around the entire ferry. Kids and old ladies would stop to make faces and coo coo cachoo at her and she would respond by laying a big slimy puddle of spitup at their feet. And so after a week of great, solid progress, here we are back at square one. Everything changes.