Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Growth Spurts, Explosive Squirts

Growth spurts (although a fantastic way to gauge that you are nourishing your child properly, and not just letting her rummage through the garbage to find her own sustenance) are miserable! Apparently not for every baby. Some babies magically grow with no fussiness, no constant nursing, and no hourly wake-up calls throughout the night. They sail through teething, gobble down whatever baby mush you put in front of them with a cheerful smile and a belly laugh, and then help you do the dishes afterwards. Months later, they'll grab a newspaper, head into the john, and teach themselves how to use the toilet.

The hourly wakings have gone on for several days now, and well, we (the babe and I) are doing what we can to hang tough. Although we are both seeing things, running into walls (apparently not seeing walls), accusing the neighbor's cat of using up all the toilet paper, and making wild, outrageous, nonsensical claims of conspiracies and relaying the information to Unsolved Mysteries, we see no cause for concern.

The experts say that these growth spurts usually last between 2-7 days. Or is that 27 days? The signs of a growth spurt are unyielding fussiness due to lack of sleep, constant nursing which helps increase the supply for an expanding baby, and less sleep through the night because she wants to eat hourly, which then brings on more fussiness!!! However, don't jump too quickly to the growth spurt conclusion as the answer, these could also be signs of a baby reacting to lifestyle change, a minor illness, or she has already begun to take revenge on me for agreeing to give her a name that is completely impossible for anyone to pronounce unless they are Irish.

In reference to the explosive squirts title, Aife (ee-fee, of course she is mad already, but it has a lot of meaning) is beginning to teeth. Sooo, bring on the explosive squirts (mostly all over me) and lots and lots of tears. But, frozen washcloths are fantastic for this, and so is massaging her gums, or the old standby, a rum or whiskey dipped pacifier that I suck on until I fall asleep, curled up in the fetal position where Matt comes home to find me with half of my hair ripped out.

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