Teething bites...

Pun absolutely intended, so groan away, oh ye of little humor.  That one was for my Xanth fans. :P

Teething bites.  For everyone.  JJ is normally a very happy baby, and even when teething pains strike, he's not usually too much of a grumpy puss during the day.  No... the trouble in this house is at NIGHT.  He fights going to sleep, he wants to nurse for half an hour after dozing off before he will permit me to actually lay him down, then he proceeds to wake up every forty-five minutes to nurse some more.  Then, around one or two in the morning, we get to the REALLY fun part.  That's when he usually decides that nursing is insufficient comfort and spends a good two hours being fully awake and wanting to play.

I usually end up either sobbing or screaming with frustration, because all I want to do at that point sleep.  Especially after John and I spent the day before moving things (large things) around in the garage and carrying boxes downstairs to free up space.  My legs are screaming and my ankles and hips aren't happy either.

In the end, nothing "gentle" persuades him to go back to sleep during these early AM party sessions.  He will lay quietly nursing for hours, with his eyes wide open and staring at me in the dim light that sneaks around the curtains.  When my nipples can't take it anymore, he is equally happy to crawl around on the bed, smacking whatever parts of me he can reach with gleeful abandon.  Hard.   By the time the second hour rolls around, he's already had fresh orajel applied and gotten a dose of baby Tylenol, so by this point I'm usually reduced to softly begging.

Which never works.

What does work (usually, and only towards the end of said second hour) is simply holding the little monkey in a nice cradling cuddle and refusing to let him move from that position.

Baby.  Loses.  His.  Damn.  Mind.

Seriously, you'd think I was dipping the kid in boiling acid or something.  Arching, shrieking (not screaming, SHRIEKING), thrashing, anything to wiggle loose and get me to let him keep playing.  And I have to keep it up for a solid sixty seconds until he stops fighting and is just crying, then it's back to the boob and he usually drops right off to sleep shortly thereafter.

At which point Mommy curls into a little ball and sobs quietly into her pillows because morning is only about 2 hours away.  Singing, nursing, rocking, fresh diaper, orajel, baby tylenol, scalp massage, foot/calf rubs, cuddling, binky, all the standard stuff calms him but nothing works to actually get him to go back to sleep, and I'm out of ideas.  I HATE doing that to him, listening to those enraged, betrayed howls rips my heart out, but it's the only thing that's working lately. 

It's after 8 now, and JJ is still sleeping, because when the alarm went off at 6:30 I just was not ready to face the day.  At all.  My body hurts, I'm  not the least bit hungry even though I know I really should eat, and all I want to do is mainline both of us some Nyquil so he'll sleep for a few more hours and I can greet the afternoon in a saner frame of mind.

But yeah...we have too much to get done today.

Aaaaaaaaand there he is, sleepy little monkey.

Sleep Regressions SUCK!!!

It's official, my kid is the cutest kid ever. :P

That's his baby-mirror he's playing with... I recently figured out a way to attach it to his pack 'n play, so now I'm typically being woken in the morning by baby-giggles as he plays with his "friend"... infinitely preferable to being woken by "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH", let me tell you.

Okay, so y'all probably remember my moaning and whining about the 4 month sleep regression.

The 8 month?  Yeah, it's worse.

He's back to waking up an average of three times a night, and this time adjusting his reflux meds didn't fix it.  HELPED, oh wow did it help (he was up to 5-6x a night again and I was one cranky momma!), but the remaining three aren't reflux related.  Totally different cry, that.  Now, if they were spread out, I could deal with it, but they're all clustered between about 2 am and 6.

*whimpers*


He's also trying to drop a nap.  Yeah, he wants to go down to one nap already, he's been trying for a month, but until today I just wasn't seeing enough to indicate he was really ready.  Oh, we tried a couple of times, and there have been a few days where everything lined up just right and one nap did the job, but most days he just hasn't been up to the 4-5 hour wake times needed to pull off one nap.

Sacked out in the new pack 'n play.

BUT... that first nap in the morning keeps sneaking earlier and earlier.  Today he was only awake for an hour and forty before he got cranky and hungry and passed out at the breast in four minutes flat.  I haven't seen that short of a morning wake time since he was still taking three 2 hour naps every day.  Aaaand then he refused to nap again until 1:45, and only slept until 2:30.  Used to be he had to be awake by 4pm in order to sleep at 7.  Then 3:30, and it's been 3pm for a while now... so he was about due to back it up another half hour.

So, I'm thinking since John's off work tomorrow, it'd be a good day to take a real stab at the single nap day JJ apparently REALLY wants.

Kid's gonna have to get used to our Ergo (thank you, miss Elora!!!), if he's gonna only take one nap, because I absolutely cannot be stuck on my butt entertaining him all day with only one break.  Can't.  Won't.  Nuh uh.  Negative, Ghost Rider, the pattern is full.

Even if he is the cutest thing ever.

"Nighttime Parenting" ... more like "Parenting Olympics"

SO... Yesterday was interesting.  JJ took three (count 'em, THREE) forty-five minute catnaps.  He then refused a fourth entirely, despite it being a perfectly normal naptime for m... 'er... him...

ANYWAY... he stayed awake for three hours and fifteen minutes and finally passed out on my shoulder at quarter to six.

Of course, I looked at the clock with dread, trying to figure out if I should try to get him to stay asleep, or let him "recharge" and just be up half the night.

In the end I opted to make a go of convincing him that he really was tired enough to sleep through the night from six pm.

We had a bobble (with more sleep-nursing) around 6:30, and he was SO restless I just held him.  The next two hours had a lot of comfort nursing and 3/4 asleep trips to Mommy's shoulder for burps, but by nine he was back in the cosleeper.

I inhaled dinner, and good thing because he was reflux-fussing again at ten thirty.  After that one I just gave up on the Arm's Reach and kept him on me for the night.  Oh the gymnastics I tried in order to get that kid to stay asleep!  I suppose this is a preview of coming attractions, anytime he's teething or sick.

I doubt I got thirty minutes of continuous sleep all night.

My reward?

Thirteen hours and thirty minutes of baby sleep, inclusive of nursing/burping/eeeeeeeaaasing down to the mattress and praying he stays down this time.

And this morning...

Rested, active, happy baby boy.

So totally worth it.

Of Reflux and Its Treatment

Breaking up the Parenting Mindset posts for a quick update.

So, it's been a rough ... month... over here.  JJ's reflux kicked into high gear, he was again insisting on being held for the duration of all naps if I wanted him to stay down longer than twenty minutes, and he was suddenly waking every 2 hours all night long to take a full feed and go back to bed.  He didn't wake that often when he WAS a newborn!  I finally said ENOUGH, found a new doctor (the third), got her approved by our insurance, and took the kid in on Monday.  Five minutes of conversation and she shook her head and said "Colic???  No, you're absolutely right, he has reflux."  Baby boy is now on Zantac.  After the first dose, he took a two hour nap alone in his crib.  He only woke to feed once that night.  The next night he slept 10.5 hours straight.  As I am typing this, he is sleeping calmly three feet away.  A week ago the sound of the keyboard would have woken him instantly.

My precious baby suffered with near constant pain for three months, because I believed the doctor who said "It's just colic, he's fine, he'll grow out of it."  And then I believed my mother in law when she said "Any doctor you go to will tell you the same thing."  Especially after another family doctor and the doctor at the ER both did exactly that.  Three months.  Because I didn't trust my instincts and my research and make enough noise until his night sleep became as disrupted as his naps.

That's not on the doctors, folks.  That one's on me. I don't even want to think about the damage that might have occurred had the problem been something more serious.

New Mommy Lesson: If you KNOW down to the bottom of your soul that there is something wrong with your child, stick to your damn guns and keep at the doctors until someone gives you a real answer.  You don't have to be rude or obnoxious or in people's faces, just persistent.

I seem to remember a passage about a woman who came to visit a king every day, pleading her case, until he got so tired of hearing her that he fixed her problem just so that she would go away.

Persistence has its uses.

My friends all told me...

So, every pregnant woman has had this experience... your friends and family (and random total strangers) feel inexplicably compelled to regale you with a combination of warm fuzzies and horror stories until you're not sure whether to hide in a corner with a blankie or blow your nose with a pancake. This morning one of those little tidbits occurred to me, and I thought ... what a great post that would make! All the stuff my friends said, and whether or not it turned out to be true!


"You'll fall more in love than you ever have in your life."

Yeah, got it in one.  He drives me a little bit nuts with the meltdowns, but then he finally falls asleep and all I can do is stare at that perfect little face, and I go right back to day one.


"You're having heartburn?  Oh, he must have lots of hair!  But he'll rub it off in the crib and be bald for a while too!"

As you've seen, JJ was indeed born with a mop.  Still waiting on the baldness, thus far there is no indication of hair loss.  No Baby Rogaine on the horizon.  (Yes, I'm kidding.)

Four days.                          Almost four months.

"Childbirth is the most painful/beautiful/horrifying/magical thing you will ever experience."


Intense?  Yes.  Beautiful?  The reward was, the process, not hardly, things were far too chaotic.  Agonizing... no, not really.  The last 15 minutes scared the hell out of me, and that's what made it bad.  Now I know.   Magical?  That one I gotta give ya... five minutes after he was out, I was already saying, "Yeah, that was intense... but I could do it again."

"You'll be completely paranoid about germs and bugs and air and (insert potential life-threatening danger)."

Surprisingly not.  Yes, I throw the cats out of the bedroom when we're all asleep, or if the baby is napping and I'm not in there to watch.  Yes, I make sure his harness is snug in his car seat.  Yes, I have smiled sweetly at idiotic fellow motorists while cussing them in my soul.  No, I don't insist that people use hand sanitizer before they touch the baby, or worry that the extra gentle shampoo I buy for me will somehow turn toxic and burn his scalp because it doesn't say "Baby Shampoo" on the front.  Soap is soap.

"Cloth diapers?  You're crazy!  I know you, you hate doing laundry, you'll give up in a week and go back to disposables!!!"


I'll admit it, this one had me worried, but JJ's almost four months old and I'm adding to our stash of dipes every time I can scrape $20 to spare.  His butt hasn't seen a disposable diaper since he was three weeks old.  The laundry?  At first, John did it all.  And I confess, he still deals with the poopy ones.  But diaper laundry has turned out to be the easiest, least complicated, and most easily maintained laundry ever. And we have yet to make the acquaintance of the infamous blow-out.


"You'll sleep again... someday." (Maniacal chuckling and that "It's your turn" grin.)

Half & half.  We've hit the four month sleep regression with a vengeance, so NOW I've experienced the three to four wake ups a night to feed the baby.  I'm hurting, I tell ya, folks.  I am one sleep deprived momma.  Up until two weeks ago, I swear to you we hit the baby lottery on night sleep.  But last night and the night before, we got it down to one middle of the night wake up, and honestly he was never really awake, just fussed enough to get my attention, ate, and was back in the cosleeper in twenty minutes.  So it's (I hope) a growth spurt thing, and we can go back to sleeping through the night here soon.

Sweet Jesus, let it be so.

"You'll get used to noises while the baby is sleeping and stop chewing people out for breathing."

Not so much.  Four months next week, and I still flinch every time something hits the floor while JJ is napping.  Answering one's cell phone will get you shooed into the kitchen, and a belly laugh?  If looks could kill, my husband would be very very crispy several times over by now.  People who ruin half an hour's work and wake JJ right as he's almost asleep are considered to be volunteering to fix the situation.

"Breastfed babies tend to be smaller, so don't worry when he doesn't chunk up right away."

Thanks all for the warning.  Keeping this in mind helped me not completely panic when JJ didn't start really filling out until he was closing on two months old.  Y'all have seen the pictures, he was a very slender guy, and even though he's chubbed out nicely, I don't think he's ever going to be the roly poly sumo baby.

Two Weeks                      Two Months 

Three days ago... and yes, folks, that's the same type diaper in all three pictures.

"Any pacifier will do, sometimes they just want to suck."


The second part is absolutely true.  The first part is a load of bovine excrement.  The cheap binkies we got at first just to have a few were barely tolerated.  When he was about 10 weeks old, I bought a couple of Soothies, and he now flatly refuses to take any other pacifier.  As evidenced by his literally spitting one of the old ones at my nose and screaming at me today when I couldn't find the Soothie and tried an old Nuk in desperation.  Yeah, bad call, Mom.

And my absolute all time favorite:

"Don't worry, breast-milk poops don't stink."


Every single one of my friends who has ever breast-fed a baby has said this to me.

I have just one thing to say.

You are, every last one of you,

Dirty.  Rotten.  Liars.

Sleep... or food... Choices...

Baby boy decided to wake up twice during the night.  Both times right as my subconscious was finally convinced he was done and was letting me go to sleep.  Little parasite has learned to consistently break out of his swaddle.  Don't know what I'm going to do when he can turn over and it's not safe to swaddle anymore.

Midnight-ish... and then again at quarter past two.

My back is screaming.

He's down for his first nap.

Which I am going to allow to be as long as he wants it to be, eff this "don't let him sleep too long" horse poop.

I now have to decide whether to go get food... because I'm so hungry I feel a little sick... or lay down and go back to sleep myself, because my eyes feel gritty and I know I'm going to be a raging grouchypants this afternoon if I don't get at least another hour.

I feel like holding out a wrist a la Ender... "so feed it to me through a needle".

Excuse me while I pass out.

DST, Mommy Wars, and Fixing What Ain't Been Broke.

Before I jump into the latest burr under my saddle, the REALLY latest burr under said saddle is Daylight Savings Time.  I hate it.  It's stupid.  It jacks with my baby's rhythms.  It's pointless, and it doesn't actually work.  I promise, people still follow their body's clock, even if the mechanical one says something else, and the disparity creates more energy usage, not less.  And farmers?  They're ruled by the sun, the rain, and the seasons no matter what the clock says.  I saw this little gem on the web last night and it cracked me up:

Seems even more ridiculous when you put it like that...

But on to other things...

Recently, I've been thinking a lot about sleep.  And sleep props.  And feedings.  And schedules.  All the stuff that the "experts", the mothers with a half dozen or more, and the ever present "they" say that I should or shouldn't be doing with my son to help him sleep, wake up, eat, and mess "on time".

What does that mean, anyway?  "On time."  From what I can gather, it means baby doing all his various activities in a schedule that fits into my life.

What with moving clear across the country three weeks before he was born, I didn't have much of a life to begin with, so there isn't really much of a schedule for him to fit into anyway.

It didn't make sense to me to expect an infant to neatly slot into grown up time-tables.  So I didn't try to make him.  Well, I did try, did the Babywise deal for about a week... made things worse, not better, so we stopped and went back to letting JJ schedule himself.  And you know what?  He did.  Entirely on his own, he settled into a cycle of wake up, eat, play, eat, sleep, naps ranging from forty minutes to three hours, and consistently sleeps at least eight hours at night, usually more like ten, and in the last couple of weeks occasionally teases me with a twelve hour night.

Just in time for the four month sleep regression, I know.  *sticks fingers in ears and hums loudly*

While many many mothers work, and thus need a more defined schedule for their little ones, I'm happy to say that if you're blessed enough to be able to stay home, a rigid schedule is NOT required.  Some babies take to it and it works for them, some don't.  I am so grateful that I can stay home with my son, and that he is the sort of baby who settled into a reasonably predictable schedule all on his own.

And yet, when people find out that I still do this or that or whatever it is they happen to feel passionately about, I hear the same old song.

"Oh, my, you do/don't/did/didn't/still __(insert parenting choice)___???  You're going to have so many problems with  ___(insert dire predictions)___!!!!"  People get amazingly bent out of shape every time they discover that some other parent did things some other way, as if that passes judgment on the choices they made, and they must now defend those choices to the bitter end.

It's amusing and confounding and irritating as holy hand grenades all at the same time.  Because while they usually have raised or are raising children, none of them have raised my child.  None of them watch him all day and all night.  None of them sleep with both ears wide open to catch his sleepy burbles and listen to his breathing.  None of them read all the books and scoured the internet with my child in mind and finally said "Ya know what? I'll figure it out.  The human race somehow survived before any of this stuff was written, it can't possibly be that hard."

Don't get me wrong, I love hearing about other parents' experiences.  What I don't like is "what worked for me" turning into "you have to do it this exact way or your baby will __(insert more doom and gloom)___"

The problem with all the different theories is that none of them work across the board, and anyone who claims that their method works for all babies all the time (if properly applied and the parents do it right, putting the blame for failure on noncompliant parents) hasn't worked long term with enough children.  Even most of the so-called experts will admit when pressed that there's no such thing as a Baby Manual.  No magic pill, no formula, no step by step or blow by blow that will tell every parent how to handle every baby all the time.  It does not exist.

Everybody knows that.

And yet somehow, everyone also seems to know that their way (or Ezzo or Baby Whisperer or Dr What'sHisNameToday) is the ONLY way that will absolutely work for my child.

I look at my precious baby, contentedly sleeping in his Arm's Reach, happy and healthy and hitting milestones.  (He's sitting up for a second or three unaided now.) I look at myself... rested, with time to myself to write or exercise or do laundry or whatever needs doing.  I look at my husband... rested, working, able to have time with the baby on a daily basis and still spend time with just me.  

I look at our family... and I figure we're doing alright.  We cosleep and swaddle, occasionally bedshare.  I babywear and cloth diaper, but use disposable wipes and vaccinate.  I drive our pediatrician a bit batty and insist on spreading out those vaccines so he gets one new bug at a time.  I gave up on baby baths and instead just take him into the shower with me.  I nurse on demand and let the baby nurse to sleep, rock, sing, cuddle, whatever works to get him down.  I use about a half dozen ASL signs daily for common activities, and will introduce more as he gets older.  When he goes down for the night, I lay there for the first 45 minutes to catch the first rouse cycle and soothe him back down if necessary so that he will sleep through the night.  I could go on like that all day, but the short version is... it's working, and I'm going to continue doing everything that works until it doesn't, at which point I will try other things until I find the new thing that works.  If I ever write a parenting book, it's gonna be...