My boy is back to the bowl! After another cereal free day and restless night, Noah is permitted to return to the joys that are rice cereal. It seems reflux has once again reared its ugly head and Noah will have to get his Zantac dosage increased. Infant reflux is not the same as adult reflux - it is the result of an esophageal muscle not being fully matured - and therefore hopefully in the near future he will no longer need to be medicated. Infant reflux normally resolves by the age of one. Until then his dosage will need to increased incrementally as his symptoms reappear as his weight increases.
So, I'm not the cleanest person in the world. I believe things belong in their place for the most part and I do a lot of straightening and putting things away, but I do not accel in the arts of dusting, vacuuming and polishing. I keep fixating on the fact that this will have to change when Noah can move about of his own accord. I don't want him dining on dust bunnies he hunted from under the sofa. I warn myself that I will have to become a neat freak and become diligent about absolute cleanliness. This seems impossible and frightening. But then I try to reassure my inner worry wart that no one ever said their childhood was happy because their house was clean. People don't say "I'm a caring, intelligent, well-adjusted human being because my mother vacuumed every day" or "John Smith would have been an upstanding citizen rather than a serial killer had his mother just mopped more often." Do they?
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