We’re good at this parenting a baby thing, and I’m owning that. It’s a fun place to be, and the complete opposite of how we felt when we had our first baby.
When Kendall was a baby, I constantly found myself telling people, “I don’t know. Don’t ask me. I’m not an expert. This is hard.” And he was hard. He was a hard baby, and we were rigid parents. The whole experience was hard.
But now, 4 babies into it, we’re broken in, and it’s fun. 90% of the time, it’s really fun.
As I tried to figure out why my baby might be crying last night, it occurred to me this would make a great blog post! Over nearly 9 years of trying to figure out why 4 babies are crying, I’ve come up with quite the mental checklist I work through, and I’m sharing that with you today.
Let’s begin with me reminding you all that I’m not a doctor or any kind of medical professional. I am not a parenting expert. This post is not intended to take the place of advice from the aforementioned types of people. I am just a mom who’s now had 4 babies who have all cried for various reasons that I’ve sometimes figured out and other times not.
So, non-expert parent to parent, let’s discuss some reasons why your baby may be crying, shall we?
Photo by Kelly White Photography
Assuming you’ve assessed the situation and your baby isn’t in any immediate danger, (like they’re not bleeding or struggling to breathe), let’s start with the obvious – because sometimes the obvious is the easiest to overlook.
First- BREATHE. And yes, I mean you. Take a deep breath and try to not tense up. I am a believer in that whole “babies can pick up on your stress” theory. We’ve already established they aren’t in danger, and we know babies cry. So this is fine. They’re going to be fine.
Is their diaper dirty or wet? Did you just change it? Well, check it anyway. Sometimes babies can load a diaper minutes after you changed it and you won’t smell or hear them do it. A super wet diaper can make them just as uncomfortable.
(And yes, this even happens to experienced parents, or at least this experienced parent. From 2 until 7 this morning, we couldn’t figure out why Wallace was so fussy. Turns out? Oh, he was just laying in a super gross diaper that we totally forgot to check.)
Are they hungry? Did you just feed them? Doesn’t matter. They could be hungry again. Babies do this thing called “cluster feeding” sometimes where it seems like they are eating non-stop for HOURS. The good news is sometimes this means they are about to sleep for a nice long stretch, but other times they’re just really hungry, so don’t get too excited.
Photo by Kelly White Photography, Glass bottle by Joovy.
When they are newborns and my nipples are on fire, I give myself a break by giving them a bottle of pumped breastmilk 1-2x a day. This makes it much easier on me when they are cluster feeding. I pump when they finally do sleep for a long stretch and my boobs feel like they are going to explode.
Are they gassy? Do you need to burp them? Are they pulling their legs up in a crunch position and straining? Try bicycling their legs or giving them something to settle their tummy like gripe water. Try putting a warm (not too hot) pad or compress on their tummy.
Photo by Kelly White Photography
Are they hot or cold? This is the reason my baby was crying yesterday. He was in a fleece sleeper, swaddled. I couldn’t figure out why he was so fussy until I looked what I was wearing- lightweight cotton pjs. I stripped him down to a diaper and he was immediately a happier baby. Remember to dress baby similarly to what makes you comfortable in that environment. Is your AC blasting? Baby’s bare arms might be cold. Is your heater on? No need to dress them like they’re about to go shovel snow.
Are they tired? Even if they just woke up, they might need another nap. Because sometimes life calls for back to back naps. They may have only woken to eat or because their diaper woke them and they weren’t planning to stay awake.
Photo by Kelly White Photography
Moving on to the not so obvious…
Are they laying on something uncomfortable? Did a rogue pacifier end up under them? Is a buckle in a swing or car seat pinching them or poking them in the back? Is a sleeper zipper rubbing them under the chin?
Is there a stray, long hair wrapped around them somewhere? Do you or does anyone in the home have long hair? Did one fall off and find it’s way wound around their toe, their neck, their finger, their penis (oh yes, that is a thing that happens)?
Is there something in their eye? I remember when my first was 3 months old, crying for some unknown reason until my sister discovered he had an eyelash in his eye (likely mine since his were nonexistent at that point). She gently blew on his face, causing him to blink until the eyelash was flushed out. That was some Aunt Magic.
Is it too quiet or loud for them to sleep? Sometimes babies will sleep much better in a chaotic room. Wallace- 4th baby- sleeps best when the TV is on! When we start to shut everything down at night, we have to turn on our white noise app pretty loud or he’ll wake up. On the other hand, sometimes babies get overstimulated, especially in large crowds of people. You may need to sneak off to a quiet room to try to get them to calm down and doze off when you’re at a family gathering.
Swaddling with the Ollie swaddle before a walk around the room to soothe him. Photo by Kelly White Photography.
Do they want to be rocked/jiggled/bounced? Some babies do well with a little motion to soothe them. All of mine really like to be bounced and jiggled. My first had colic, and I spent many nights bouncing – hard- on a yoga ball while holding him.
Do they need a change of scenery? A walk outside or a drive in the car can work wonders sometimes.
Are they sore from being held too much? Have they been passed from aunt to uncle to grandma and 15 cousins in the last hour? I don’t mean to imply you can “spoil a baby.” But are they literally being held in uncomfortable positions for too long? People holding them under the arms, holding them up, oohing and ahhing over them?
Do they need to be held more? Again, you can’t spoil a baby. Sometimes babies just need to be held, and sometimes it helps to strip them down, take your shirt off, wrap them close to you (either with a baby wrap to support them, or hold them to your chest with a blanket over you both) and get some skin-to-skin time in.
Are they teething? Some babies (um, mine) start teething really early. I think ours were teething by 3-4 months old. “Teething” doesn’t have to produce teeth for quite some time. It can take forever, unfortunately. It’s hard when they are really young and don’t have the coordination to put teethers in their mouth. You can help them by holding something like Baby’s First Toothbrush in their mouth, or rubbing some teething oil on their gums.
Photo by Kelly White Photography
Unfortunately, sometimes we never know why our babies are crying or how to comfort them. I’ve been there. My first cried so much for the first 8-12 weeks of his life. They say he had “colic” which is just a fancy word for “we don’t really know what’s wrong with him” I think.
That was a REALLY rough time for all of us. I can honestly tell you, nearly 9 years later, that I have blocked much of that part of his life from memory. The few memories I do have are of me crying, BEGGING him to please stop, rocking him, shooshing him, swaddling him, bouncing on the yoga ball with tears streaming down my face.
In hindsight, I think this Period of Purple Crying describes what he was going through perfectly.
If this is you and your baby, beyond encouraging you to keep following up with your pediatrician, I will tell you to give yourself permission to walk away. To put that crying baby down to cry in a safe place like a crib, and go outside where you can’t hear them for a few minutes.
Photo by Kelly White Photography
It wasn’t until I had that inconsolable infant that I finally understood why a parent would shake a baby. In fact, according to the National Center on Shaken Baby Syndrome, the #1 trigger for shaken baby syndrome is frustration with a baby’s crying. You will do far less harm by leaving your crying baby to cry alone while you collect yourself.
I’m sure I’ve missed some random reasons why babies cry, so chime in and let us know in the comments! I’d love to hear about that time you figured out why your baby was crying and it totally surprised you.
I’m 23 weeks pregnant. In 18ish weeks, there’s going to be another baby living here. I guess it’s time to, like, start getting ready? With the help of Wellements Probiotic Gripe Water, I’m stocking up on the most important things for those first few weeks and sharing some colic survival tips with you in this sponsored post.
Preparing for our 4th baby is quite different than prepping for our first. With the first, it was like, “Buy all the cute things!” But with this one, it’s like, “Do we have stuff to keep us sane if this baby has colic?”
Because all those cute things did nothing for us when our first had colic, so we know what our real priorities are now.
If you’ve lived with a colicky baby once, the experience will haunt you forever. We’ve been so lucky that the other two were mostly “easy” babies (relatively speaking, of course), but since you never know, we’re totally going to be prepared for this one to turn into Satan’s spawn 6-10 hours a day. Just in case.
Our colic routine 8 years ago, once we finally had one down, went something like:
1. Swaddle super tight.
2. Turn on white noise. Back then it was the actual sound of a vacuum cleaner burned to a CD. (Luckily, now there are apps that are far safer than running a vacuum cleaner for an hour.)
3. Bounce and bounce and REALLY BOUNCE while holding him on the yoga ball or put him in the bouncy seat and do it that way.
4. Once he calmed a bit, put a boob in his mouth because, of course, on top of all of that, he wouldn’t take any kind of artificial nipple.
5. Give him a little gripe water.
6. Cry while drinking.
So this time around, I’m ready to go with several swaddling blankets and sacks that I know we can easily get snug and secure, some pacifiers and, of course, my breasts (but please, oh please, take a pacifier sometimes, baby), my white noise app (this one is my favorite), the bouncy seat, our trusty yoga ball, and some Wellements Probiotic Gripe Water. And wine.
8 years ago, the brand of gripe water I used wasn’t organic, and it certainly didn’t have the added benefit of probiotics.
Wellements Probiotic Gripe Water is certified organic, preservative free, and safe for everyday use from day one with baby, and can help ease gassy, colicky, and upset tummies. Why is the addition of probiotics so key?
Babies are born with a virtually untouched systems and their first exposure to bacteria happens as they pass through the birth canal. While they receive their first “inoculation” during birth, giving your baby probiotics early on can ensure they receive the beneficial bacteria they need to properly colonize their intestines with healthy microflora. A healthy gut can set the stage for good health as they grow, strengthening digestion and building a strong immune system. – WellementsBaby.com
No need to hunt it down at a specialty store. You can find it on the shelves at your local Walgreens as of today, or online at Amazon. By the way, they also have other products for babies, like teething oil and constipation relief.
FINGERS CROSSED I don’t have to put Operation Survive Colic into place, but if we do, we’ll be prepared. We may not be prepared to put baby to sleep in a fancy crib or dress him in all the cute things, but we will be ready to soothe Satan’s spawn.
Thanks to Wellements Baby for sponsoring this post. For more information, check out their Wellements Facebook page.
He’s really smart. I’m not just saying that because I’m his mom. His teachers think he should be in the advanced class.
He DGAF. He has never been driven by a desire to please. He is his own entity, and he does what he wants. I still feel that traces of colic live on in him. I’ve been waiting for him to grow out of it for 7.5 years.
He’s not just smart in the reading comprehension way. He gets people. He may not care to please them, but he knows how to work them, he can read them on a level that most can’t.
Every. Single. Day. I worry we’re failing him.
He has the potential to do GREAT THINGS. We have the potential to really fuck him up.
This is not the kind of kid who raises himself. He’s not the ficus tree of children. He’s the orchid, the one that needs lots of devoted, specific care.
IDK, you guys. I don’t know shit about plants… orchids. Disregard. Let’s try again.
He is VERY CHALLENGING. He is the kind of child parents with more patience, less tendency to yell, more focus and followthrough should have been given. NOT that I would ever not want to have him. I get it. He was given to me – the impatient, yell-y, scatter brained mother- for a reason. 34 years in this universe has taught me not to question that.
BUT really, I’m not qualified for him.
When he was just days old, I vividly remember laying in a dark room at 3 in the morning with him BEGGING him – out loud- to please understand that I AM TRYING. He screamed and screamed and I cried and cried. I rocked him, bounced him, shushed him, nursed him, I made up lullabies entirely of the word “please.” Nothing worked.
I knew I wasn’t qualified for him from the beginning.
So every day of motherhood since has been me trying to be the mother he NEEDS, not the one I am. Every day, it’s like going to work at a job that someone gave me without even looking at my resume, and just faking it and hoping I don’t destroy something before I can figure shit out.
We had a parent-teacher conference today. We all agreed on two things. 1. He’s really super smart, you guys. 2. He doesn’t care.
Oh, we also all agreed that that is SUPER FRUSTRATING- to witness a kid who has so much potential just have no desire to try. We sat around, three teachers, Scott & me, and we tried to figure out how to get him to want to do well. And none of us had a really solid plan other than rewarding and taking away iPad time.
I’m not qualified enough to know how to make a kid give a fuck, but I do have an iPad.
I’m just showing up as his mother every day and hoping I figure it out before he realizes I’m not qualified for him.
“So, did you bring any electronics?” Kendall asked as he hoped up on the exam table after the nurse left and before the doctor came in.
Frozen was playing on a TV in the exam room. A TV was playing a current movie. In the room. At a doctor’s office. I looked at him quizzically.
“Uhm, no. I mean, I have my phone, but it’s nearly dead. The doctor will be in soon anyway,” I replied.
“So you didn’t bring my Kindle Fire?” he innocently pressed.
Yes, we bought him a Kindle Fire for his 6th birthday. I got some kind of $50 off deal from Amazon last week, and in an exhausted haze thought, “Eureka! What our kid needs is another device with apps and games! Birthday present, check!”
In my defense, we’ve set the Kindle to only allow him to play the games (that we download for him) after he’s done an hour of reading. This kid is smart, but he also needs incentives. And if a Kindle Fire is going to get him fired up about reading books, I’m all for it.
Sometimes I’m convinced we’re failing him. Maybe we don’t discipline him enough, or the right ways, or we give in too easily. Maybe we’re “those parents” who allow their kids to play apps while out to dinner so we can carry on a grown up conversation. Maybe we’re part of “the problem,” whatever that is.
A lot of other times I feel pretty good about how we’re handling things, though. I’ve learned with Kendall that we can’t force him to do things. I mean, I guess we can, but we might also get arrested for trying. So there’s a lot of reward charts, and rock jars, and devices that make him think that reading an ebook is more fun than a paper book.
Book purists, please don’t hate me. I assure you we have MANY books made of actual paper. And we read them. Often.
The point is he’s reading. The point is we are trying as hard as we can to instill a love of learning, and to encourage his natural curiosity, and to help him succeed in a school environment where he often gets into minor trouble for talking too much and not sitting still.
I’ve come to accept that there likely won’t be an age with him where he hits a switch and stops being challenging. Each year he pushes us, frustrates us, and forces us to rethink our entire strategy. With him, I don’t think we’ll ever be able to coast through parenting.
I don’t say that as a bad thing. This boy who made me a mother has shaped me into a version of myself that I am quite proud of today. All his grit and toughness has washed over us again and again, wearing us down, smoothing out our rigid edges, breaking us in. I think we are more comfortable because of him, like a well worn leather sofa.
Every year, I remember how my very first Mother’s Day was spent with him at the ER at 4 in the morning because he was crying so hard and I just could. not. make. him. stop. There was nothing “wrong” with him. He was just… mad? Colicky? Introducing himself to me?
I think of all the things I didn’t know then, and still managed to keep him alive. I’m acutely aware of all I still don’t know, and yet he still thrives.
This weekend, there is much to celebrate. Kendall’s 6th birthday party is tomorrow, Mother’s Day is on Sunday. He is healthy, and his spirit is full of fire. I am healthy, and full of gratitude.
You know how so many things in life are much clearer, make more sense once you have something to compare them to? What’s become clear after these last few months with Leyna is how really, REALLY hard it was to be Kendall’s parent the first 3 months of his life.
The clarity comes not from realizing that it was hard for me to cope the first few months because I’ve known that all along. It comes from realizing how unusually hard he was to deal with. In a way, it’s vindication. Maybe I wasn’t a terrible mother, as I often wondered at the start of his life. Maybe he just truly had colic in the purest form, a vague “illness” that we could never figure out how to cure, despite all our desperate, passionate attempts. Maybe his unstoppable screams that dug and stabbed at my very core, that caused me to shout “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” at him at 2 am after many hours of begging, bouncing, singing and sobbing, that sent me into deep pit of guilt… maybe those weren’t *our* fault entirely. Maybe he just really was a difficult baby.
People would tell us that, reassure us that he “just has colic,” that he would grow out of it, that he was sensing our stress, that we needed to calm down, that we needed to wait it out. But at the same time, I’d be hearing from people bits of advice like, “soak in every minute of this precious time, it goes so fast,” and I wondered what the hell was wrong with me. I didn’t want to “soak in” any of it. I wanted it all to pass, fast! If 3 months was the magic age babies are supposed to grow out of colic, then I fucking wanted a 3 month old, stat. I didn’t care what I’d miss out on.
Truth be told, I didn’t cherish many moments those first few months. I have few pictures because I didn’t even feel like documenting it. And looking back, I honestly have few memories. There are vast expanses of time that I have no recollection of. I feel very sad if I think about it too much… about how much I wished away the first few months of Kendall’s life. I feel a little robbed.
Kendall at 10 weeks old, snuggled in my Moby Wrap in the Texas summer heat because it's all that soothed him.
Of course, having only that experience to relate to, I assumed my start with Leyna would be just as bad or worse, considering I’d have to split my time with her and Kendall. The first 6 weeks of her life, I waited, breath held, preparing myself for the fussiness to set in, the yelps to escalate to purple-faced screams. But, they didn’t. They never did. She is happy unless there is something tangible wrong. I then fix the tangible issue and she is happy again.
It took a long time for me to warm up to the idea of having a 2nd baby. I was still iffy when Kendall turned 20 months old and we started trying. I NEVER understood how women of babies and newborns could even contemplate for one second having another baby so soon. The 2 under 2 club boggled my ever loving mind, and the 2 under 1 club made me want to rip my ovaries out. When people would ask when we were having another one, for the longest time, I wanted to make the Scream face and run in the other direction. And feeling like this made me think something was wrong with me. Perhaps I just wasn’t that maternal, maybe I was an awful mother for not loving my newborn so much that I wanted another at any point in the next 15 years?
But now, I get it. I totally get it. Leyna is the kind of baby that makes me love babies. Leyna is the kind of baby that bathes me in momnesia, causing me to rapidly forget the intense pain it took to bring her into this world.
Leyna at nearly 12 weeks, full of smiles and coos.
Leyna is an EASY baby. Kendall was not.
Now, don’t interpret this to mean me saying I love one child more than another (that was already covered in the blog world last week). I love them both equally, both with all the love I have to give, from the bottom of my toes, always have. But it took me a few months to really start to like Kendall. And while it’s easy to feel guilty about that, especially compared to how much more I liked Leyna from the start, how much easier it’s been to bond with her the last 3 months, this experience the 2nd time around has also helped alleviate some of the guilt I was still carrying around.
Our experience with Kendall was tough. It was NOT typical. Colic was traumatizing. Looking back, I know we did the best we could with what we had and what we knew. And after 3 months passed, I really did start to like my sweet little boy a whole hell of a lot. In my blog post from when Kendall was 12 weeks old, “I’ve Always Loved Him, But I’m Really Starting To Like Him,” I said:
You can’t fully appreciate and enjoy the good things in life unless you’ve experienced the bad, and I believe motherhood is no exception.
Oh, how wise I was as a newbie mom. In a way, I’m grateful for the rough start we had with Kendall. I think it’s shaped the way I look at motherhood for the better, knowing what we’ve been through and that we came out the other side alright. I’m just going to take this opportunity to give myself a huge pat on the back and a little more credit for dealing with all of that right out of the gates of parenthood.
Kendall is rapidly approaching 3 (I know! Right?!) and Leyna is almost 3 months (and that’s as precise as I can get until I put one of those tickers on my blog again to help me keep track).
Come here. Closer. Lean in, I’m going to say this in a very soft whisper.
It’s true. This baby? She is…. easy.
She sleeps! A lot. Her cries? Not bad.
No signs of colic. None.
::KNOCKING ON ALL PIECES OF WOOD::
Oh, I really, really hate to blog about this. I’ve waited over 5 weeks to reveal this to you all, because I’ve been TERRIFIED of jinxing it. But I feel like I owe this much to you, especially those of you who were so traumatized by all the stories I told about Kendall, and ESPECIALLY for those of you who went through something similar with your first and are searching for a tiny glimmer of hope when it comes to the 2nd.
Of course, I can’t make any promises that your second will be such an angel. As much as people like to soothe parents of colicky, high needs first babies by telling them the 2nd will be a breeze, I know it doesn’t always work out that way (and for those parents, I sob for you into my fat glass of wine).
It might have to do with the name. Leyna means “little angel,” you know. After dealing with a baby with colic, I pulled out all the stops, including a wishful name. I’m not really sure what Kendall means (something about a bright valley?), but it should be something like “he who will REALLY challenge you and drive you to drink more.” Clearly I didn’t research it enough before we settled on it.
So, how easy is she?
Well, she only cries when she actually needs something, and I can usually diagnose what that is and stop her not-too-terribly-loud-cries within minutes.
She’s really nice to my boobies. She had a small adjustment phase in the beginning with her latch, but, unlike her brother, she hasn’t sucked off any chunks of flesh from my nipples. Breastfeeding stopped hurting after about two weeks this time, not two months. And she’s efficient. She gets on and gets to business. None of these 45 minute, sip and sleep marathon nursing sessions. (However, my letdown this time is CRAZY intense. It feel like I’m sprouting samurai swords from my nipples every time. Is it supposed to be worse the second time around?)
The very best part? She SLEEPS. Folks, for the last week straight, if not more, she has slept at least one solid 4 to (get this) SIX hour stretch each night. Then she’s up to eat and for a diaper change and back down for another 3ish hours. I can usually manage 7-9 hours of sleep with only 2-3 interruptions. I couldn’t get Kendall to sleep this well until he was 7 or 8 months old!
In fact, she’s slept 4 hour stretches since she came home from the hospital, we just had to wait a couple weeks until she cycled these from day time to night time, but the only time I’ve ever been up every 2 hours with her at night were the first 3-4 nights until my milk came in.
I’m not saying she’s maintenance free. I mean, let’s be real, it’s not like I gave birth to a ficus tree. She’s still pretty needy and demanding. She only wants to nap snuggled close to one of us or while being physically bounced by one of us. She cat naps a lot during the day and eats a lot during the day (I’m guessing because she sleeps so great at night). She’s had rough nights, like after I had buffalo wings for dinner. Epic sad face for no more buffalo wings while breastfeeding.
But, I think this experience is much more in line with what a “typical” newborn experience is. It’s just that it comes off as really easy in comparison to the hellish colic nightmare that was surviving the first few months of Kendall’s life.
And speaking of colic nightmares, I feel that I have some residual PTSD from it the first time around. There have been a few times Leyna’s been fussy and I begin having flashbacks. I get sweaty and start freaking out.
“OH MY GOD. IT’S COLIC. IT’S STARTING. GET THE GRIPE WATER. GET THE VACUUM CLEANER. GET THE WINE!!” I run around screaming before I fall into the fetal position and begin rocking.
But then we figure it out (and swear off broccoli, which isn’t nearly as sad as no more buffalo wings), and she gets better and the next day is fantastic.
I don’t really know if I can give her all the credit here, though. Sure, she’s a “little angel,” but I am also a much more confident mom in a much less stressful place in life than I was 5 weeks in last time around. Some of you may remember when Kendall was not even a month old I flew to Texas with him by myself, drove all over the state of Texas, found a house, flew back to Virginia and then we packed everything and moved ourselves down here 3 weeks later. Oh, and we had temporary custody of our 4 year old niece. It was a clusterfuck of stress with a colicky newborn thrown in the mix.
Plus, this time I’m much better at relaxing and listening to my instincts. From the beginning, I haven’t stressed about schedules or “rules.” I don’t feed her every 2 hours. I feed her when she’s hungry, whether thats 15 minutes from the last feeding or 5 hours. (I eventually began feeding Kendall on demand, but it took me a couple months to really know what his hunger cues were… and it took a couple months for my nipples to not retreat back into my chest every time he came at me to latch on.)
I don’t log all her dirty and wet diapers, I don’t obsess about how many ounces she’s eating. She’s pooping and peeing and filling out her clothes, and that’s all I need to know.
And I let the girl sleep where she wants to sleep. 99.9% of the time that’s either in her bouncy chair (set inside the co-sleeper next to the bed) or in bed with us… on her side. I don’t stress about making her sleep on her back in the crib or the co-sleeper. That’s not to say I let her sleep curled up in a ball in a pile of laundry and stuffed animals, we practice safe co-sleeping, but I’m not trying to force her to sleep in a cold, vast crib or Pack & Play. For US, it’s been the best choice. I also mastered side-lying breastfeeding from day one this time around and it has saved me MUCH sanity and plenty of sleep.
Now that I’ve shared all this with you, I’m sure she’ll wake tomorrow as challenging as her brother ever was. Hell, she’ll probably start teething next week as a result of this little bit of bragging. I’m so screwed, I know.
Kendall is 2 years 9 months and Leyna is 5.5 weeks
This is the update I know so many of you are waiting on- the “How Is The Toddler Adapting,” post. I’ll be honest, I hesitate to type this. You think my birth stories are terrifying? My recovery stories are great birth control? Ha! This may be worse. I was thinking of holding off, seeing if things get better, but since when have I been one to color things rosy and unrealistic around here?
*SIGH*
So yeah, it’s not been fun. I don’t have much time to go into detail because I type this while Kendall tears apart his room during his mandatory “rest” time in which I lock him in there and thank God we’ve bolted all furniture to the walls. Why? Because he’s decided not to nap. AWESOME. And not just not to nap, but to fight any and all needed sleep with every ounce of his being. So much so, that it sort of confuses me why he doesn’t need *more* sleep from wearing himself out with all the anti-sleep antics.
Also? He doesn’t want to eat.
Take that back.
He doesn’t want to eat anything other than fruit and candy and the occaisional piece of bread << but THAT he wants a lot of. He never stops grazing and asking for “snacks.” NEVER.
But, the worst are the incessant tantrums, the horrific screaming, the defiance, the non-stop negotiating.
And I know what you might be thinking. He’s adjusting. He needs more positive attention, ignore the negative. He needs structure. He needs love.
I assure you, we are doing everything in our power to provide all of that, to do all of that, to not LOSE OUR EVER LOVING MINDS. We are trying. We really, really are.
And that’s what makes it so much worse. I’m seriously watching episodes of Super Nanny looking for genuine help, not just pointing and laughing and judging and wondering how those parents could ever let their kids act that way. I feel like I’ve tried everything.
The good news is he doesn’t lash out toward Leyna. He’s never been aggressive with her, though he’s not overly affectionate with her, either. He’s still pretty meh about her, I guess. It’s possible he doesn’t quite grasp that she’s here to stay yet. (I sort of wonder how much of this has to do with his adjustment to our new family dynamic and how much has to do with his age. Many of my friends with kids the same age who don’t have new babies tell me they’re experiencing similar, mind-numbing struggles.)
He’s a sweet kid, he is. He tells me he loves me, unsolicited, all the time now, and he’s amazingly… big… and grown up now. I love him with all my heart, but at the same time, right now, I’m more frustrated with him than I can ever remember being. And remember, he had COLIC.
My anxiety before having Leyna was so misplaced. I was terrified of bringing her home because how would I deal with HER? How would I devote all my attention to her when she’s fussy and not sleeping and doing all the things Kendall did as a newborn? Turns out, she’s not the one that needs all the attention and time. It’s him. It’s STILL him.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m a more confident mother to a newborn this time around, if she’s just a much easier baby, or if she gets neglected more than I’d like to admit, but she doesn’t get close to the amount of time and attention Kendall did as a newborn and still does. I can’t let myself feel guilty about that right now, though. I don’t have time for guilt.
I know (hope) it’s going to get better. So many of you have told me this much, and I really appreciate all the words of support. I HAVE to believe this.
It’s like going through colic with him all over again. I keep having to remind myself, “This, too, shall pass.” And though I can’t treat him with gripe water anymore and white noise doesn’t seem to help, I have contemplated getting a swaddle blanket in his size. Oh yeah, they make them.
You say straight jacket, I say swaddle. Po-TA-to, Po-TAH-to.
Kendall is 2 years and nearly 9 months and Leyna is 4 weeks old.
Coffee used to be a fun thing to go “do” on a break at work. Going to have coffee implied relaxation, conversation, good times. It was a reward for a good job done, or an incentive to get off my ass and finish a project as soon as I got back to the office. Coffee didn’t used to be complicated, but having a baby complicates a lot of things, coffee being one of them.
It starts when you’re pregnant. “Should I not drink this coffee?” you think to yourself. You read the scary reports, get the snide side-eye looks when you stand in line for your daily jolt, you cut back. Then you have the baby. “Ahhh!! The fetus will no longer be affected by the sea of bold roast it could be swimming in. I’m free!!” you think to yourself. Then the pediatrician hands you a list of things you absolutely shouldn’t be eating or drinking while breastfeeding and caffeine is at the top. “WTF?!” you scream in your head. “How the HELL am I supposed to get through life with a sleepless newborn without caffeine?! Why didn’t anyone alert me to this while I was pregnant?” You are mad, you try to live without coffee. Despite your valiant attempts to find other means of keeping yourself awake, you realize you are a raving bitch AND your baby STILL has colic. “Well, forget that,” you think. “If you are still going to spend over half of your waking day screaming, I’m going to at least listen to it while enjoying a frothy latte.”
Once the baby is here, coffee is no longer the relaxing thing to go “do”. A trip to the coffee shop means hauling in a diaper bag, infant seat, hooter hider or bottle, and don’t forget the actual baby. You are now *that person* the one that everyone curses the minute they walk through the door. Because, honestly, did you ever want to listen to a crying baby when you were relaxing and enjoying a coffee between business meetings? You go only when the baby is sleeping. Timing is everything. That is until the day the baby wakes with poop oozing out all sides of his diaper. You run to the fancy private bathrooms, only to realize that the place you pay hundreds of dollars a year to provide you a hot cup of brew can’t shell out the $250 it would take to put a changing table in their extra large, well decorated restrooms. Asshats. Clearly your loyalty to them over the years means nothing once you become a parent, because parents don’t “do” coffee.
Yes, parents don’t “do” coffee, parents NEED THEIR FUCKING COFFEE. You resort to the drive through, though there are many times you can’t get your order out over the noise of the screaming baby in the back seat. You grow impatient “Does the FLIPPING barista NOT realize that the noise they are hearing over the loudspeaker is CLEARLY my child having a meltdown and NO I would NOT like to sample the farking OATMEAL today,” you say under your breath, half hoping they heard you. Due to a combination of factors, including lack of time, lack of disposable income, lack of patience, and a small personal protest against the place that betrays you with no changing tables, you start making coffee at home.
Coffee at home is even more complicated. Grinding beans and pouring water requires more focus than one would imagine. Some days you need coffee just to make the coffee. Some days you need coffee to remember that you made coffee. Your husband sets up the autobrew for you, but you nearly piss yourself when you wake one morning to what sounds like the next Texas Chainsaw Massacre in your kitchen. That effing bean grinder is loud, and so help me God, if that wakes the baby….
Then there is the eternal internal debate. “Do I drink the coffee now, at this early morning hour? If I do, surely that will ruin any chances I have of catching a nap when the baby goes to sleep in a couple hours.”
After much waffling, you pry your bleary eyes open for two hours of baby food and Jumperoo and Peek-a-boo until the kiddo is worn out. He finally goes down for a nap. You turn on the monitor, head back to bed, snuggle up under the warm covers, begin to drift off to sleep… and the SON OF A BITCH! The baby is awake after only 20 minutes. It’s going to be one of those days, and you haven’t even had any coffee yet.
Kendall is 8 months 1 week and 4 days old
Okay folks. I am so excited to announce that I think we’ve come to the other side! The side where having a baby is more fun than work (okay, that might not be entirely true, but at least the work is getting to be a little more fun) and there are more rewards and less meltdowns. Yes, he still screams constantly in the car, and yes, I’m still a prisoner in my own home, but he smiles now and he coos and he baby talks to me, and yesterday he fell asleep with his arms around my neck, snuggled up to my chest, and it was the sweetest thing ever. I have always loved this little guy, no matter how much I complained, but now I’m really starting to like him too. Does that make sense?
It’s like he’s finally what I envisioned a baby to be. We finally know each other. I can tell what his cries mean, and most of the time I know how to make him stop (even if it’s not possible to stop the car that instant and take him out). I absolutely love when he wakes up in the morning and I free him from his baby straitjacket (aka- the Miracle Blanket). He immediately throws both his hands up in the air, stretches and proceeds to fart for a good minute or two. Then he gets a huge grin on his face and starts talking to me in a series of oohs, ahhs, whoas and I swear the last two mornings it’s sounded like he’s said, “mommommomom”!
He’s doing fun baby things now like staring at himself in the mirror, smiling and interacting with people and just two days ago he rolled over from his belly to his back. It’s a tad sad that he’s not a small newborn anymore. I packed away more clothes yesterday and had to just stop and stare in awe at the tiny things he once fit. I allowed myself to miss it for a moment and then I snapped out of it. Give me a 12 week old in 6 to 9 month clothes any day over a newborn that thinks day is night and won’t allow you to sleep for more than 1 1/2 hours at a time. No sir. It is going to be a while before I am ready for that again.
And it turns out you bitches really were right! Breastfeeding is… dare I say… almost enjoyable now! Actually, around the 8 week mark things started to get significantly less painful and I think somewhere around 10 weeks I stopped cringing every time he latched on. I am very happy I stuck with it, even if just for the mere convenience of being able to feed the little monster almost immediately upon his first sign of hunger instead of having to deal with bottles and formula. And at least I feel like my boobs were destroyed for a reason. Plus, breastfeeding gives me the perfect opportunity to groom my little man like a monkey. I spend the time picking stuff out of his ears, off his head (usually crumbs left over from eating while he is in my Moby wrap), and the crusties out of his eyes. I even go for the occasional booger or two. I am so one of those moms that will lick her finger and clean her kids face off now. The thought of that used to disgust me. Kendall seems to love breastfeeding too. Many times he will go from his hunger cry straight into an all out giddiness at the mere sight of my boob. I know he’s done when he starts to stretch his arms over his head and then beat me with his fists. It’s like he’s making sure he got everything there was. I’m sure this will become less cute as he gains strength, but for now it cracks me up.
Those first 6 weeks seemed like a slow spiral into hell at times, but we’ve been steadily digging ourselves out since then, and though I’m sure we have plenty more to overcome and we certainly still have our moments, at least we’ve come to somewhat of an understanding of each other. So to all you new/expecting moms, take solace in knowing that it really, truly DOES get better…just like everyone says it does. And I know that as the mother of a two week old perhaps the most UN-comforting thing to hear is, “Hang in there! It gets so much better. Just give it a few months!” Because for you, a few DAYS seems like an eternity and a few months is completely unfathomable. Just know that it’s okay to complain and feel like the whole new baby/motherhood thing can completely suck sometimes…that it’s not always a joyous/bonding/awe inspiring journey. Don’t let anyone make you feel guilty, because I’m convinced it’s all part of the process. You can’t fully appreciate and enjoy the good things in life unless you’ve experienced the bad, and I believe motherhood is no exception. Just take things one day at a time, give yourself a break, and hopefully sometime in the not too far future your baby will reward you with a loveable coo and a cute smile like this one.
Please ignore my “not unpacked yet, yes, that is folded laundry that has not been put away on my couch” house. (And that’s a pretty good view of the Easter egg colored kitchen).
12 weeks 6 days old