Hey y'all -
Yesterday was turning out to be much like the day before: Hagen would sleep in twenty-minute increments, then wake up exhausted and angry. Figuring that we could improve his mood if we put y'all in the truck and took you somewhere, we went for a drive down to the boat launch.
We had a great time at the river, but as bedtime rolled around, Hagen was back to being tired and angry. I told your dad I couldn't take one more sleepless night. The night before, I had fallen asleep against his crib and woken up with an indentation from the crib rail on my forehead. So your dad held Hagen while I hit up Google for some answers.
I don't know what made me think of it, but when we were younger, my cousin Heidi really liked this movie, Blue Lagoon. Other than remembering that I thought it was stupid, the only thing I can recall of its plot is that two young teenagers end up on a deserted island, fool around in a way I'll explain to you later, and end up with a baby that they don't know how to take care of. As I was standing in the kitchen, doing a web search for "congested infant," with no idea how to make Hagen feel better, I thought, "We might as well be two idiot teenagers stuck on a damn island banging coconuts together and hoping for the best."
You know what I learned? Babies aren't able to breathe out of their mouths until they're a little over 6 months old. So, if a baby can't breathe out of his nose, he can't breathe at all. Did you know that? Well, me either. Welcome to Blue Lagoon. Here's your coconut bra.
At 10pm, armed with this new information, I deduced that Hagen's problem was that he'd fall asleep, then all that crud would fill up his nose, and he'd wake up because he couldn't breathe. It became mission-critical to your dad and me to clean out his nose: hot bath, saline drops, bulb syringe, Vicks baby rub, humidifier. Hagen's not completely cured, but we got him to sleep for hours at a time instead of minutes.
Grab them binoculars, I think I see a rescue boat.
Love,
Mom
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