Cry-It-Out

1.  Carolyn woke up at her usual time again last night.  I swear, she's got an internal alarm.  And again, she didn't cry.  She just talked.  REALLY LOUDLY.  For like 20 minutes.  When I went in to "calm her down", she was ready to have a full conversation.  How are you supposed to practice the cry-it-out method when the baby isn't crying?  But, crying or not, she still wakes me up.  In the end, Husband went in, gave her her paci and then came back to bed and went straight back to sleep.  I was awake for at least another hour and then woke up every 20-30 minutes after that even though the baby was asleep.

2.  The daycare gave me a piece of paper yesterday saying they needed me to bring diapers for Carolyn.  Um.  I brought 108 of them on Monday (marked with her name).  And according to the daily report papers I've gotten, only 15 of them should be gone.  What happened to the other 93?

3.  Carolyn has changed already since Monday.  She is so much more smiley when we get home.  I think it's mostly because it's really the only true interaction she gets during the day.  And that makes me unhappy.  But the smiles and laughs crack me up.

4.  Carolyn is sick.  Again.  It seems like she's been perpetually sick since the middle of October.  Today she joined the legion of daycare kids with green snot running out of their noses.  I wish there was a way for me to keep her home for a couple of weeks to get her 100% well.

5.  The Tummy Toucher ran me down in the parking lot the other day - literally, ran me down...I was running away from her.  On purpose.  She said her mother is flying in for a few weeks and she really wants me to meet her and she really wants her mom to meet the baby.  Ok.  Um.  I really wonder what it's like to live in her world.  Because for the nine millionth time, we are not friends.  NOT FRIENDS.  Like I'm not even friendly toward her anymore.  And even if I were, I don't want her alcoholic mother around my child nor do I want to spend my Sunday afternoon entertaining her mother and her two destructive children at my home.

6.  I think Husband and I have made the decision to go ahead and drop our health insurance.  We're paying $400/month in premiums right now and only using it for Carolyn's well-baby visits.  If we went on Husband's insurance, we'd be paying $550-600 in premiums.  We're thinking about just putting that money in a savings account and paying cash for medical expenses.  Oh, and getting a little catastrophic insurance plan just in case.

7.  One of my secret admirers left a gift of hot chocolate on my desk this morning.  I'm thrilled.  On top of that, the Interim Big Boss brought me a Chick-Fil-A breakfast biscuit.  It really doesn't get better than that.

8.  They're calling animal control to come pick up the feral cats tomorrow.  Yesterday a lady came to pick up my three favorite cats to take to her house.  I kept telling the Small Orange that he was going to a place where they'd be nice to him.   Yes, I cried.  It was like giving up my child.

9.  If anyone wants a Christmas massage, I'm now working Saturdays at Tina's Heavenly Touch.  They also do mani/pedis there.  It's a newly refurbished salon with lots of nail techs/massage therapists that are trying to build clientele.  Oh, and they do gift certificates for all of those teacher/bus driver/babysitter gifts you feel obligated to give out.

Sleeping Baby

This is how Carolyn looked after getting her four-month shots:

The Paci Problem

When I was in Nevada a couple of months ago, I kept asking my sister when Carolyn would be old enough to keep a blasted pacifier in her mouth - instead of spitting it out every 30 seconds.

I longed for that day.

I thought her being attached to her paci would be fan-freakin'-tastic.

But not anymore.

At Carolyn's last doctor's appointment, the doctor told me to cut out Carolyn's 3am feeding since she's now old enough to go at least eight hours at night without eating. 

How hard can that be, right?

Wednesday night, she woke up at her regular time, so I ran in her room and popped her paci in her mouth.

She went right back to sleep.

Score one for me.

Thursday night, she woke up at 12, 2, and 3. 

She hadn't done that since she was two weeks old.

She'd lost her paci.

All I could think was, "This cannot continue.  I can't get up three times a night to replace a pacifier."

After getting some sound advice from my cousin's wife, I decided that last night, I'd go ahead and start letting her cry a little bit to see if she'd put herself back to sleep.

I put her down at 8:30.

At 10:30 she started to cry.

She put herself back to sleep in less than 2 minutes without a pacifier.

Score one for me.

At 2, she started to whimper.

I thought I'd give her 15 minutes to see what happened.

It escalated.

About five minutes in, I knew I was going to have to go to her.

And then magically, it stopped.

Huh! Boo-ya!  We're so good at this cry-it-out stuff.

No problemo.

I can't believe anyone complains about how hard this is.

Then out of no where, Husband crawled into the bed (he'd fallen asleep on the couch downstairs watching a movie).

I said, "Did you go in there and give her the pacifier?"

"Yes.  I did good."

"No, baby, I'm trying to teach her to soothe herself to sleep without it."

"Oh.  I did it so you wouldn't have to get up.  I was trying to help!"

"Ugh.  This is never going to work."

The Riot Act

1.  The pediatrician totally read me the riot act on Tuesday.  Apparently Carolyn's arms and neck aren't as strong as they should be.  She told me she has to do doctor prescribed tummy time after each meal.  Carolyn screams through it, no matter how long or short it is.  She doesn't even try to hold herself up - she buries her face in the blanket and screams.

2.  I didn't sleep a wink last night because of back pain.  Poor Husband had to get up at 4 am to help me  change Carolyn's diaper and get her out of the crib to eat.  Then he had to skip school to help me get her dressed, feed her again, and give me time to do some hot/cold packs.

3.  And speaking of sleep, the entire time I was in Ruby Valley, Carolyn was consistently sleeping at least nine hours/night.  Since coming back to Texas, she's dialed it back to 6-7.  I know that's still a lot for an infant her age, but I'm really missing the nine hour nights.  Any ideas on how I can coax her back?

4.  I still have no definite childcare set up for next week when I have to go back to work.  I checked the classifieds and called around but no one wants to take an infant.  I'm waiting to hear back from a lady from church...please let something work out!  I'm so stressed, I can't eat...and that makes me dizzy and sick.

5.  I hate living in an apartment complex.  Carolyn cried and cried for about two hours just now because she was so tired (I seriously always thought tired babies just went to sleep...I had no idea how hard they fought it).  It took an extra hour of fussiness to get her to sleep.  About three minutes after I put her down, one of the neighbors started revving his motorcycle right outside the window.  Carolyn woke up screaming.  Thanks a lot, jackass.

The Worst Sound in the World

I used to think the worst sound in the world was nails on a chalkboard.

Not so.

Let me set the scene for you: 

It's 4 am.

Your baby starts to cry.

You drag your already overly weary body out of bed.

You change her.

You feed her.

You burp her.

You rock her.

Millions of mothers all over the world find hope in rocking.

Rocking will sooooo put this baby back to sleep.

It doesn't work.

So you pull out the very last trick in your arsenal.

The binkie.

You slap it in her mouth and keep rocking.

And then the sound starts.

The sound like a hog eating mashed potatoes.

It's your daughter with her paci.

Mocking you.

She's just messing around.

And not going back to sleep.

She thinks it's a funny game.

Except it's not.

Sleeping Baby - Seven Weeks

I wanted to get some pictures of Carolyn as she was waking up - she'll usually smile at least once, but don't blink or you'll miss it. 

Turns out, Carolyn was not at all interested in having the camera in her face nor in smiling for it.  Instead, this:

Beauty Sleep

Carolyn apparently decided she needed her beauty sleep today.

She slept from 11:00 pm - 8:15 am.

What does that mean for me?

I got to shower, brush my teeth, and eat breakfast.

That's right.

All in the same day.

And, She Sleeps...Thank Heaven

I Wasn't Kidding...

I wasn't kidding when I said I was going to buy Carolyn a straight-jacket.  Of course, no one would buy a product called "Straight-Jacket for Babies", so they're sold as "Halo Sleep Sacks".

Here's how Carolyn felt about being put in her Halo Sleep Sack:

Here she is literally ten seconds later:

She kind of looks sad.  Or resigned.  Like, "I can't help that I have the weirdest mother in the world who insists on keeping me swaddled because if I'm not, I'm screaming my head off."

Just as a side note here, today to curb her crying, I took her on a car ride and vacuumed for fifteen minutes (even though it only takes three to vacuum the entire downstairs).  Neither one of them worked.  She screamed right through them.  Any other suggestions??

This is Carolyn's preferred sleeping position when not swaddled (this is a rare sight these days):

Don't these little purple socks make you laugh?  They're like knee-high bobby socks on her:

And this has nothing to do with anything, but this is the chair I nurse in during the middle of the night:

I'm in love with it - even if it is shoved in the very last .2 centimeters of available space left in the room.

And speaking of nursing, Carolyn has been fussy, fussy, fussy for the last three days while nursing.  I've done some research and I still I have no idea why.  This morning, she clamped down on my nipple and then whipped her head back to pull off.  I swear to you, she took all of the skin off with it.  It hurts so bad I can't feed her on that side.  It might be the most painful thing that's ever happened to me.  I'm not kidding. 

I now watch talk shows a lot while trying to get Carolyn to stop crying.  You know what's not funny?  People who go on talk shows and try their hardest to be funny.  Like Tracy Morgan yesterday on Oprah.  So not funny.  You know what was funny?  Date Night with Steve Carell and Tina Fey.

I'm anti-Gretchen Wilson.  Also anti-skinny jeans.

Question:  Can anxiety be passed through breast milk?  You know, like cholesterol or something?  Because maybe the reason my baby is so colicky is because her mother is an anxiety riddled fruit cake.

Oh, and I'm pretty sure I smell like a combination of sweat and sour milk.  Just so you know.

I Knew It!

I knew, knew, knew I should have never bragged about how long Carolyn has slept for the past three nights.  Jinxed myself right up, didn't I?

Last night:

1:30 am - Carolyn starts to fuss after falling asleep at 11:30 pm.

Oh, good grief, NO!  Maybe if I'm really still, she'll just go back to sleep.

1:45 am - Fussing continues...getting louder by the second.

I wonder if Carolyn can sense my ESP...sending sleeping thoughts...

1:47 am - Fussing turns to whimpering.

I wonder how much longer I can make her wait.

1:48 am - Whimpering turns to wailing.

Get up.  Feed her.  Must feed her.  Good grief, my nipples hurt so bad.

1:49 am - Peering over the edge of the crib, I find the reason she's awake at all is because that blasted left arm has wormed it's way out of my very best effort to swaddle her properly.  She's trying to get her hand into her mouth to suck on it - but instead, is hitting herself repeatedly in the nose.  This does not make her happy.

1:55 am - Diaper changed.  Re-swaddled.  Feeding.

2:45 am - Feeding done.

2:55 am - Thinking baby is asleep, I put her in the crib.

2:56 am - Find out baby was not, indeed, asleep at all, she was just faking it.

2:57 am - Pick up screaming baby.  Start walking and bouncing ritual.

3:10 am - Baby's eyes are still wide open.

Good Lord in Heaven above, do you not realize it's the middle of the night, child??

3:20 am - Still awake.

3:30 am - Still awake.

3:45 am - Eyes closed.  Does this mean she's asleep?

3:46 am - Nope.

3:50 am - Mom is about to fall asleep on her feet.  Put baby in crib so I don't drop her.

Sleep.  Must sleep.

4:20 am - Baby has put herself to sleep with a paci.

Please let her sleep for another three hours.  Please.  That's what she usually does.

6:20 am - Carolyn starts to fuss...that damn left hand is out of the swaddling and hitting her in the face again...

That's it.  First thing tomorrow morning, I'm driving to Babies R Us to get her a straight jacket.

Scream Fest

Last night we had our very first all night scream fest.

I held her backward, forward, sideways, rocked her, changed her, fed her (twice), walked her, cuddled her, dosed her up on Mylicon, put her down, picked her back up, gave her her binkie, wrapped her up, massaged her tummy, bicycled her legs...

Nothing worked.

NOTHING.

Just when she'd quiet down, I'd set her down, and she'd start again.

Nine-thirty pm until five am.

I almost lost it at four, after the second feeding.

Every move I made sent pain burning down my still-very-sore c-sectioned tummy (I still have to sleep on the couch because I can't get in and out of bed).

I held her on my chest and started crying myself, "Please stop crying.  Please.  I don't know what else to do."

Then mom came downstairs.

And held her close for five minutes.

She zonked out.

It was like magic.

The Judy is a witch, afterall.