Tag Archives: crying

Sensitive Duplo Hoarder

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We (Kurt) bought our Christmas tree on the 6th or 7th and then we decorated it on the 9th, so it had been ignored by Lukas for ten days before I finally started putting presents under it and then it still took a couple days before he went for it. He began to touch a present that just happened to be his. I very gently told him, “no no Lukas”. There was no way I could have said it any more gently. I’d have to whisper it outside to be more gentle. He stopped. He looked at me. His whole tiny face turned upside-down and he started crying. I told him he couldn’t touch the presents. I scooped him up and we cuddled. The poor little shit.

About three days later Lukas was playing his most beloved game of hiding his Legos (Duplo) in places they don’t belong. Under the couch, under end tables, under the armoire…you get the picture. On the floor next to the little stand that holds the DVR and DVD player Kurt has a sub-woofer. The sub-woofer has cute little hole in it (manufactured that way) that perfectly fits a baby arm. As far as Lukas is concerned, that hole is there for the sole purpose of hiding his Duplo blocks.

I have Duplo Blocks

Ah crap she found my hiding place.

He set one at the edge of the hole and then pushed it in. He looked over at me and proudly smiled at his new favorite Duplo hiding place. I was quietly laughing at the baby. I told Kurt what Lukas was doing and Kurt firmly told the boy “no Lukas”. Lukas stopped. He hunched his tiny shoulders over. He started huffing. And after a couple minutes began bawling his head off complete with red face. I have a very sensitive boy.

On Friday my sensitive little dancing queen gave me a fucking heart attack! I was washing dishes and had the dishwasher door open. Lukas was on the opposite side of the dishwasher door from me putting his Duplo blocks in the silverware compartment. I go to wash a dish and as I turn to put the dish in the dishwasher, the boy had butt scooted to my side of the dishwasher and grabbed a knife. This wasn’t a butter knife, not a paring knife, nor a steak knife. No, my boy grabbed the chopping knife, a knife with a nine-inch blade. He held it by the handle and waved it around like a sword.

“NNNOOO!!! No no Lukas!”

Yeah there was no calm that time. The boy didn’t stop crying about being yelled at and having the knife taken away for a good fifteen minutes.

Of course, if he’s anything like his father I should be more worried about him with a perfectly safe spoon than an object that is actually dangerous.

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Lukas’ Nine-Month Check-Up

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His nine-month baby wellness appointment was on the seventh. I knew he wasn’t as chunky any more. I figured he was still steadily gaining, but had grown into his weight. I was shocked to find out that Lukas actually lost weight. The boy now weighs sixteen pounds and five ounces, and he is twenty-eight and a half inches tall/long. He has lost more than a pound since his six-month checkup. The doctor said the weight loss was perfectly normal for his age because babies tend to lose weight once they start crawling. Yeah, that’s the other problem. Lukas doesn’t crawl yet. Even now, days away from his ten-month birthday, he isn’t really mobile. He tries. He really wants to be able to move, but the best he can do is reach for something, fall on his side or tummy, rollover on his back, sit up, and do that process again to get what he wants. Once Lukas rolls to his back, he usually just stays there and amuses himself with the bendability of his own fingers.

Aside from the crawling bit, Lukas passed most of the battery of milestone questions. “Does he pick up things with his index finger and thumb (pinchers)?” Yes.

I was undressing Lukas while she asked me the questions and the newness of it all was creeping the boy out, so he didn’t want to be put down at all. I laid him on the patient bed to get his clothes off as the nurse asked me if he babbles. “Momma,” he cried. Yep, says words even. He started saying, “Momma” about a week before his nine-month birthday. At first I thought it was just a coincidental vocalization, but at that moment in the doctor’s office it was clear he knew what he was saying and meant it. On the fifteenth Lukas added the word “da-da” to his vocabulary. My only objection is that when he says, “momma” he’s crying and has a need that needs to be met immediately if not sooner. When Lukas says, “Da-da” he’s smiling and laughing. Little shit.

“Does he have a fear of strangers?” He’s crying for momma and not wanting to be put down here in the office and you have to ask? Really?

“Does he pull himself up to stand?” No. At the time he would barely put his weight on his feet. He’s getting better about it, but still does not pull himself up. It’s as if he doesn’t know his legs exist. Much like Sophia didn’t seem to know her arms existed at this age. The doctor said to call him in four to six weeks with an update about the crawling. He said if Lukas isn’t crawling in that time that he’ll refer us to the same place he sent us for Sophia’s speech. I hate that place. I think I’ll just wait. I’m sure Lukas will figure out how to use his legs on his own…eventually.

smiley face

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Tornado Parent Sympathies from Sentimental Parents

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I showed Sophia how to use my laptop to play games on pbskids.org and have since regretted it, so yesterday I showed her that she could play the same games on Kurt’s desktop. I’m evil. Last night I helped her get to her games and then went back downstairs to watch the news with Kurt.

The big story was of course the tornado that went through Joplin Missouri. They showed a video taken by someone inside a convenience store. The lights went out and all that could be heard were people saying, “I love you.” One guy, in the convenience store, said, “I love you all. I love everyone.” And then there was the very scared voice of a little girl calling for her mommy.

“Oh that would be heartbreaking, as a parent, especially if you weren’t next to your child.” I told Kurt.

Just after I said that, we hear the distinct call from our own offspring upstairs playing computer games, “No no no! Help. Momma momma momma, help! Peh-weeze.”

Kurt and I look at each other. In mock reply he says, “Oh shut the hell up!”

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And on the Fourth Day She Smiles

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I didn’t really check out how well the other two and three year old children were separating from their parents, but let’s just say I didn’t hear any crying except from my child. It wasn’t a loud obnoxious tantrum, just a general sobbing upset. She clung to “friend”, but knew that it was useless to try and Velcro herself to my leg. She was whisked away with tears in her eyes…again.

I figured out why the tickling thing was a big enough deal for Sophia’s buddy to mention the previous day. The head of the camp who is also Sophia’s advocate (person who is supposed to ensure that we’re happy with the services we receive and that we’re informed of everything available to us) came up to me and showed me Sophia’s camp photo. I wasn’t supposed to receive it until the next day but she gave it to me as proof that Sophia does smile while at camp. I’m sure there were some smiles but I’m also fairly certain that she had to be tickled for the photo. How much you want to bet this mom knows her kid?

The snack for this day was a waffle face with apple slices to form a mouth and mini-marshmallow teeth. Sophia likes apple and I used to slice them for her and remove the skin when she was younger, then we moved up to merely slicing it. Now however she won’t touch an apple unless it’s whole. For the waffle face eyes, they used raisins and for a nose, they used half of one of those hotdog things you see in baby food jars. The other half of the hotdog thing was halved again to make the ears. Dried spaghetti was poked into the top of the waffle for some hair. It was cute and overall a better snack than the one from the day before. I’m still not impressed, but at least she’s eating in front of other kids.

Sophia’s buddy said that Sophia still wouldn’t talk in front of her but that the speech therapist was there and Sophia signed for her. I didn’t ask which speech therapist it was, so it could have been the one Sophia is already familiar with, It could have been the one who was assigned to us and used to come to our house.

Thursday:
Today…
I made a…Necklace
I ate a…Waffle and raisins (nothing she hasn’t had at home, except that at home the waffles are made from scratch of course and not Eggo Waffles…I’m just sayin’)
I liked…playing in the field

My day was… (in this part of the form the buddy circles one of three choices: fabulous, good, ok) Sophia’s buddy circled fabulous.

Under comments she wrote, “Still no talking! Although she’s doing great at camp! Signs please and more!”

necklace Sophia made at camp

This was the first time that Sophia seemed genuinely happy after camp. I asked her if she had a good day and she answered with an excited, “Yes!” and a big smile.

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Rapture of Camp Bagel Slug

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Day two of camp…The drop off was even harder. We arrived at the park a few minutes early so I let Sophia play for a bit and then we headed to the line forming at the designated place for her camp. Sophia not only clung to me but she started crying aloud. I tried putting her down for her buddy to take her, but she clung to my leg. Her buddy didn’t want to be pushy and just grab Sophia, which is understandable and appreciated. I like that she let me make the judgment call. I literally pried the crying toddler off me and handed her to her buddy. It was similar to attempting to bathe a cat only without the claws. I quickly gave Sophia a kiss and told her I’d see her later and she was whisked away to be distracted.

I drove off to another nearby park to write up some blog posts. You’re welcome…please, please, don’t all three of my fans thank me all at once. Oh, it’s too much. No, really it’s my pleasure. Yeah, ok anyway. I sat in the car finally using my laptop in the way HP intended…on the road, unplugged. Of course, I just had to park next to the one person listening to some sort of audio bible about the rapture loudly with his windows rolled down. *twitch*

I went back to the park where Sophia’s camp was located about thirty minutes early and sat in the parking lot. I saw Sophia’s group pass by behind my car about fifteen feet away. She seemed rather ho-hum, but at least she wasn’t crying. At pick up time Sophia smiled when she saw me and raised her arms for me to pick her up, a huge improvement to the emotionless attempt at scaling Mt. Mommy as if being chased ravenous predators from the day before.

Tuesday:
Today…
I made a…Puzzle
I ate a…Bagel Slug
I liked…Craft

My day was… (in this part of the form the buddy circles one of three choices: fabulous, good, ok) Sophia’s buddy circled fabulous. I still wouldn’t say it was fabulous but certainly better than the first day.

Under comments she wrote, “Sophia’s becoming more comfortable at camp. She ate a raisin in front of everyone today and half a bagel!”

At camp they try to turn food into something fun for the kids. I don’t remember what they created for the first day but I know the food items were Bugles chips, string cheese, and something else that looked like Sophia’s taste. She didn’t touch any of that. On this day they made “Bagel Slugs”. A bagel cut into a half circle so that it can “stand” on the plate. Inserted in the bagel, two toothpicks lined with raisins and capped off with mini-marshmallows for the eye-stalks. On the sides of the bagel were broccoli florets and for the slug-slime, some ranch dressing behind the bagel.

After day two at camp…
snapshot of Sophia immediately after camp

Her camp art projects from days one and two…
art projects from days one and two

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Visiting hours at the mental hospital

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Brainy baby is plotting against me. I think she’s determined to drive me crazy. She doesn’t talk, but I’m sure she can read and her preferred material seems to be my blog. Crafty baby must have read my post about being clingy because for the past two days has done a total 180.

Tuesday was only different in that I had the TV on in the morning while I got ready for swimming and fed Sophia. I saw the fanfare and listened to the commentary leading up to the event and then Sophia and I left for her swim class. I didn’t get to watch the inauguration as it happened, but that’s ok. I know that even though Chief Justice John Roberts, who should know the constitution backwards, forewords, and upside-down, royally screwed up the presidential oath, Barack Hussein Obama is our rightful president. I can’t say the same for the two terms of the previous presidential squatter. But I digress.

Sophia and I went swimming as usual. She did a lot more kicking than normal and wore herself out. She fell asleep on our way from swimming to Target to pick up some different new sippy cups. Yep, I finally gave up trying to get her to use the AVENT sippy cups and sent those away to a second hand store. I took sleepy head out of her car seat and sat her in the cart sideways all reclined. I though she was still asleep under all her hair but I guess she was just slowly waking up. Either way it was a pleasant Target trip. I bought two Playtex Sipster Spill-Proof cups and one Playtex Coolster Tumbler. She’s not old enough for the Coolster yet, but I can see it being useful in the future.

Towards the end of the shopping trip she became her more normal self, and by that I don’t mean that I needed to carry her like a football as she screamed up and down the isles. A normal trip consists of her pushing the cart herself while holding my purse at her insistence. Please don’t send her any “born to shop” t-shirts. I will burn them. I’m not joking.

I don’t mind her pushing the cart at all. I hang onto the handle to direct and she happily pushes it all over the place. The part that I do mind is that I can’t find a break leaver on the child. I wind up passing the item I’m looking for, rounding the corner, and passing it a second time this time catching the price. If I like the price, we make a third pass where I snatch the item and stealthily lob it into the cart. It’s a good thing I go in knowing what I want because if I had to comparison shop this way I think I’d go quite mad. It literally makes the trip last three times longer than it needs to be, but it wears the child out and that makes me happy. It all boils down to me and my happiness. I’m a selfish bastard.

The ten-minute catnap in the car was enough to throw the whole nap routine off so we ate lunch, read books, and practiced the alphabet and numbers. She finally went down at three and didn’t wake up until Kurt got home. Use of the new tippy cup went well except that she doesn’t tilt her head enough to finish it all. And as usual, there was some crying and lamenting by the child while she was baby-gated out of the kitchen so I could cook. After diner, I sat on the chair in front of the TV and watched Kurtie play with Sophia. She started getting fussing and crying about something and reached out for me, so Kurt lifted her towards my lap. I glared at him, “why, so she stops crying?” OHMYGOD it’s not *just* me! He bowed his head, “oh, you’re right.”

Sophia hasn’t been fussy since, seriously! On Wednesday I went grocery shopping, which by the way does not entail letting the child push the cart. Grocery shopping involves letting the child hold limes, apples, or other fruit or vegetable or canned food that she cannot destroy. It’s our system and it works. Don’t fuck with the system.

After shopping and checking the mail we head home where I put her and as much as I can carry in one trip into the house. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.” I grab the other bags from the car. I return expecting a red face and crocodile tears. Nope, she was just fine. Later I corralled her upstairs while I made trip trips three million trips up and down doing laundry. Not a problem. She was also fine in the evening while I cooked, a first in I don’t know how long.

Thursday was a day of many advances and much cuteness. I made oatmeal for breakfast before swimming and blew on it to cool it off for Sophia. I looked up to see that she was copying me and blowing as well. I sent a spoonful in her direction, “blow” I told her, and she did before taking a bite.

After breakfast I put her in her jacket and told her to wait while I went to start the car so it could warm up. I came back to perfectly content child.

In the swimming locker room, she waved hello to the kids and parents that we see most often, as opposed to the ones that seem to only show up on the first and last sessions. She also let the swim instructor hold her for a moment without making any contorted, “Where’s my mommy” faces. He only ever holds the kids for a second then passes them back to their parent. This time it was like she knew that. On the way out, she waved good-bye to her latest crush, a two and a half year-old boy with huge blueberry eyes.

At dinner I gave her a little of everything we were having including some guacamole, which she ate by taking little pinches and sucking it off her fingers. She waved to get my attention. I asked her what she wanted and she did the sign for more, correctly.

After dinner I went up to our room to read while Kurt played on my computer and Sophia entertained herself by arraigning some board books that come in their own case. She actually entertained herself even though I was within her view but not on the floor with her. Amazing!

Have you ever had a problem with something like a computer and everyone tries everything known to fix the problem but nothing works. Then one day you decide to see if it works and it does. People ask, “What did you do?” I just did what I tried before, but this time it worked. I don’t get it, and thinking about it is going to cause me to need the number of an insane asylum. It’s all part of her master plan isn’t it?

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Obsessed Stair Climbing Master

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Sometime after Sophia began butt scooting but before her birthday, I caught her on the first step heading up to the third floor. She fell and hit her head before I could get to her. She shrieked and cried, but didn’t mess with the stairs again until mid December.

I had been taking her by the arms and bouncing her up the stairs occasionally when she decided that it was time for her to revisit the stairs. Climbing up was no problem. She used all for limbs to help her up the stairs. Once at the top I took her hands and helped her take the steps down. Thanks to Kurt for showing her how to get off our bed and the couch by sliding down feet first on her belly after a few trips down the stairs she insisted that I let go of her hands. She turned around to face the steps and went down the stairs feet first. She is a scary smart little monkey!

A couple days after that I learned that when I’m on the main floor of our tri-level, instead of using the baby gate for the stairs leading down, I need to use the gate for the stairs leading up. It was the day before my birthday. I was in the kitchen when I saw that she had climbed up two steps. She saw me and started heading back down. When she reached the bottom step, she decided that she wanted to turn around and walk down like a grownup. She positioned herself to face forward, but had her feet and hands occupying the same step which caused her to loose her balance. She did a forward roll off the last step and hit the top of her head before I could reach her. She shrieked and cried. I carried her to the top of the stairs into her room to rock her. She cried for no more than two minutes before she pushed me away and headed for the stairs again. We spent a good half hour practicing going up and down the stairs. She is one stubborn kid!

A few days after our trip I was once again in the kitchen and had forgotten to put the baby gate up, I heard her grunt-cry which in baby-ese indicates that her highness wishes my assistance. I ignored her. More fussy grunt-cries persisted. I ignored her. Finally, her grunt-cry became quite insistent. I decided I should at least give her a glace. HOLY CRAP! She’s at the top of the stairs! Monkey genius was waiting for me to help her walk down the stairs.

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Baby sleep battles

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Monday last week at Sophia’s doctor appointment he checked her ears and throat and all is well.  Friday and Saturday were actually her worse two days although she was a little grumpy on Sunday.  By Monday, all she had left of her cold was a runny nose.  The doctor said that we could always give her some baby Tylenol because she can get the same achy pains adults do with their colds.

While we were in the office, we told the nurse about Sophia’s napping habits or lack thereof.  There have been times the child has stayed up for 12 to 14 hours straight, or only had a couple ten-minute naps during the day.  She might fall asleep when nursing but as soon as I set her down she’s wide-awake, and I’m not about to hold her ALL DAY LONG.  Car rides usually work but we didn’t invest in one of those detachable infant carriers so she wakes up when the ride is over and we actually have to go in the store or back in the house.

The non-sleeping little bastard

Picture taken 12/30/2007. The non-sleeping little bastard. :)

I use a front pack when I go grocery shopping that she’ll sometimes fall asleep then too, but getting back into the car wakes her up again.  I know those detachable infant car seat carriers make things easier when at a restaurant and just going in and out of the car to run errand all over town without disturbing the baby, but then you have to carry the weight of the seat and the child and that gets HEAVY!  I’d rather carry a 15-pound baby against my body than a 15-pound baby with a 10-pound seat by hand.  Those seats can be expensive and aren’t used for very long anyway.  Sophia will be able to sit up on her own in about three months (probably less) so she’ll be able to sit in restaurant highchairs and shopping carts soon besides, her lack of napping is more of a problem on the days that I stay home. – I haven’t figured that one out either.

I would wear the front pack around the house but about the only chore I can do with it on is vacuum the house and we don’t have much carpet.  I’ve tried hauling laundry up and down the stairs with her in the front pack and I do ok, but I don’t think bending down to put clothes into the drier is good for my back, and folding laundry would require much longer arms.  The same goes for doing dishes and loading the dishwasher with her attached to my front.

So the doctor gave us a printout that was meant to help parents get their baby to bed at night, but he said we might be able to get some tips from it for napping.  Because that day Sophia had not slept at all during the day we took the opportunity to use the suggested techniques to switch her usual bedtime from 10pm to 8pm.  This special technique was basically – put the kid to bed and let her cry herself to sleep.  Oh GOD was it hard!

It said to develop a bedtime routine that starts about thirty minutes before bedtime and that the baby needs to associate the crib with falling sleep instead of falling asleep in my arms.  She also needs to learn to calm herself to sleep without me holding her, swaying, driving, using “white noise”, standing on my head, or juggling axes lest she later learns to wake up in the middle of the night without needing to be fed and require me to juggle the axes some more.

The routine I started was to change her diaper, put her in nightclothes, close the curtains, put some of her baby things away for the night, turn on the nightlight, and offer to nurse her even if she just ate thirty minutes ago.   I nursed her until she showed her usual sign of not being hungry which is to attach and detach A LOT and look up and smile at me.  The looking up and smiling at me is what made the next step so incredible difficult because she was being all cute and sweet and here I am about to do something that I know she’ll hate.  I put her in her crib still awake like the magic doctor sheet said to do.  I kissed her and told her goodnight.  She smiled and cooed.  Oh why do you have to make it so difficult?  I made the “goodnight” brief just like the magic doctor paper said and I left the room.  She quietly entertained herself for a few minutes and then the crying, screaming and crocodile tears began. According to our directions, we were to check on the baby every five to fifteen minutes and talk softly to her without any harshness in our voices.  Visits should be brief and boring.  We could give her kisses, hold her hands, etc.  But under no circumstances were we to pick her up (well ok maybe if there’s a fire we can pick her up).  We were to only be in the room for a minute and you know that Kurt was very precise following each guideline to the letter.  I pointed out that our directions gave no time limit for the whole process.  I mean at what point each night do you just give in and start over the next night?  Because she eats about every two hours during the day we decided if she isn’t asleep in that time I could pick her up to feed and change her.  Every ten minutes we took turns to go check on her.  On my turns, Kurt came with me because he didn’t trust that I wouldn’t pick her up and only stay a minute.  The torture ended after an hour and a half when Sophia threw in the towel.

I didn’t follow this technique with naps because to try it four times a day would just drive me insane and I think it would just be too much.  Despite me not changing anything during the day, Tuesday was a breeze.  She took three good naps (each lasting about an hour) and fell asleep within thirty minutes that night.  Wednesday she took three ok naps (each only lasting about 30 minutes) and took an hour and a half to fall asleep that night.  Thursday was a no nap day and it took an hour and a half to get her to sleep that night.  I blame Kurt for falling for the old, “I need a drink of water” routine.  On one of his turns to check on Sophia, he checked to see if she was hungry by letting her use his pinky as a pacifier.  He didn’t realize that’s all she was doing was using it to calm herself.  I tried to nurse her and knew right away that she wasn’t actually hungry but I sat with her anyway just as much for her comfort as my own.  Friday and Saturday night we only had to check on her once on each night.  Sunday night she actually prompted me to check the time when she started to fall asleep while nursing – it was 7:30!  Not only was she right on cue but that night she slept right through the night for NINE AND A HALF HOURS STRAIGHT!!  Monday night and tonight she fell right to sleep on her own.  Each night the screaming a wailing became more fussing than calling out to save her life which was nice, and with exception to Saturday she did pretty well with naps too.

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Brought to you by the Letter C

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I was going to post about Sophia and her crying or maybe her cuteness, but after last night I just have to rant about our furnace. It’s been a month since the first time our furnace first started failing. It’s old and we have to keep resetting the circuit breaker. Kurt called someone to come fix it and the guy asked Kurt if he’s at all handy then told him to tighten or replace the circuit breaker. Last weekend Kurt tried to do just that but found that the main in the circuit breaker box, which as far as we know is supposed to shut off everything, only shuts off the lights. Neither one of up is up for a little electrical shock in just replacing the one breaker without the main turning them all off first, so we’re still dealing with the problem. Last night it cut out again and it was COLD!!!

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Life sucking colic

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Kurt went to his first appointment with our doctor. All three of us now see the same one. It’s nice having a family doctor that knows and sees all of us, because we can give him updates on Sophia without having to make a separate appointment for her. Unless of course we describe something that he needs to look into further. Kurt told him about Sophia’s screaming sessions that seemed to have started at two weeks of age. fussy babyShe cries to the point of shear exhaustion (of us and herself) every night from about seven to eleven and sometimes one in the morning. She’ll turn beet red and cry with all her strength, complete with tears running down her face, and appears to be in excruciating pain. Before the doctor’s diagnosis I felt like the most stupidly inept first time mom because I couldn’t calm my own baby and so I cried right along with her. Kurt is able to calm her down better than I and that made me feel even more inept.

In the beginning, figured it must be something I was eating as we noticed that she would stop screaming after a good fart and then start up again minutes later. I couldn’t think of where to begin cutting things out of my diet, and in the “Feeding your Baby” class I took at the hospital the nurse made sure to state that breastfeeding moms don’t need to avoid any foods at all except on very rare occasions (caffeine and alcohol being the exceptions which need to be limited according to your doctor’s instructions). It would be just my luck that Sophia would be one of the rare ones. Because this was happening everyday, it seemed logical to me that it would be something I ate EVERYDAY and nothing came to mind. Plus it didn’t appear to be gas every time she cried with such force, so we though maybe the fartty gas was just coincidental.

Then there were the confusing growth spurt times. I had finished feeding her within the last half hour, so would try everything but that to soothe her only to feel like a complete ass for denying my baby food for thirty minutes or more while I fumbled around swaying, shushing, holding her like a football, and wrapping her in the plushest soon-to-be soaked in spit-up blankets. I know about following the threes and sixes for growth spurts (three days, six days, three weeks, etc.), but I think her highness has her own chart graphed out for how things work in the kingdom of Sophia.

We also thought that maybe I wasn’t producing enough milk since she would sometimes become very fussy when I knew she was hungry. She would latch and suckle for a bit and then unlatch and fuss, sometimes screaming. I started pumping milk and then I had so much milk that in the mornings, I was in pain and the first am feeding started to result in milk coming out of her nose. I just recently learned that had to do with oversupply and a forceful “let down”. I also learned that the laying side-by-side nursing position is probably one of the worst to use when that occurs since the milk ejection reflex will practically force it down her throat and apparently out the nose.

Two things seem to consistently calm her, car rides (those will actually put her to sleep for as long as the car is moving), and holding her while bouncing on a yoga ball. I can only bounce for so long though. Just like car rides, the minute I stop, she starts up again. Despite the classes we took that told us, “You can’t spoil a newborn” Kurt was beginning to doubt it. I don’t think it’s possible to spoil a newborn; there is a big difference between an infant is trying to tell us something and one that just wants attention. Sophia does start crying if I stop bouncing on the yoga ball, but she doesn’t stop fussing just because she has been picked up (except when she’s been fussing for a basic need like food)! Besides isn’t attention/affection a basic need as well? Anywho The motion must be doing something for her, so at least for now when she cries I’m going to do whatever I can to soothe her. Swaddling also seems to help a lot, but again, Kurt is the super star swaddling hero. So if I’m having a rough night – it’s just going to be a long night.

Now her fits of screaming red-faced rage also happen during the day. Oh lucky me. I have of course heard of colic and I have a vague idea of what that means, but I also know that sometimes babies just cry. I didn’t know about the rule of three’s for this condition:

  • baby cries up to three hours a day
  • baby has long crying episodes three or more days a week
  • baby is between three weeks and three months old

So we weren’t entirely sure if this was just normal crying baby behavior or something else until the doctor said that it sounds like colic. It’s funny how you’re temporarily relived to hear the doctor give a diagnosis right away. At least it’s not our fault we can’t cure the crying. Then all hope is lost after a brief internet search seeking the easy fix remedy. I did find that the reason Kurt is better at calming her – he’s a frickin’ furnace and warmth on the belly is one thing our books, Pregnancy Childbirth and the Newborn: The Complete Guide suggested. Although last night I bought a hot water bottle and that did nothing for her at all. I’ve read some sites that say colicky babies only appear to be in pain but really they’re just fussy – For our case I’m going to call Bullshit! Last night between shrieks of what they say isn’t pain we clearly heard loud gurgling sounds from her belly followed by a very wet, squishy “productive” fart. Of the sites that say foods might be the cause each have their own list of things to avoid. One site listed cabbage, spicy foods, and beans. Those three particular things are the bulk and staple of EVERYTHING I eat! In my search for “the cure” I’ve found that everyone has their option about what food may cause or increase colicky reactions, and if I follow them all I’d wind up eating nothing but white rice. The only list of foods to avoid that I found credible is from the Medela site. Yep, the breast pump manufacturer.

Research has identified some possible causes for colic. One common cause is lactose overload from switching breasts before baby gets to the high fat milk. If baby is often fussy, try offering one breast at each feeding. Sometimes colic can be caused by an sensitivity to a food in mom’s diet. Rarely, babies can be allergic to a food that mother has eaten, and which may appear in minute quantities in her milk. If baby is crying due to food sensitivity, fussing will begin within a few hours of eating the offending food and may last up to 24 hours. If you can avoid the food that causes the crying, baby’s symptoms should cease within 3-7 days. The most common allergy-causing foods are cow’s milk, eggs, wheat, and peanuts. If you decide to wean to formula, it would be wise to pump frequently for 3-4 weeks so you have the option of resuming breastfeeding if baby’s colic worsens. It can take this long for a formula allergy to become apparent.

They got their food list from this study, “Effect of a Low-Allergen Maternal Diet on Colic Among Breastfed Infants: A Randomized, Controlled Trial“. Published in Pediatrics. Published online November 1, 2005 PEDIATRICS Vol. 116 No. 5 November 2005, pp. e709-e715. The same online journal published another study in 1991 dealing specifically with a protein from cow’s milk causing colic in breastfeeding babies. I only have access to the excerpt of that one, “Human Breast Milk Contains Bovine lgG. Relationship to Infant Colic?” PEDIATRICS Vol. 87 No. 4 April 1991, pp. 439-444. The only surefire proven remedy for colic that all sites agree on is time. SHIT! I hate waiting.

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