Kizzy the Jerk

...we love our daughter more than anything...but seriously, this kid can be such a DICK.

Kiz has passed her two month mark, which for me was a big milestone. All of the parenting books (aka "panic guides") I've read so far have indicated that after two months, cool shit starts to happen and slight illnesses aren't as devestating. Which is good because I think I'm coming down with a cold.

I just read another blog, Assholebaby.com. I identified so much with a lot of what this guy is talking about. There's something very comforting about realizing that everyone else in the world has gone through what you're going through. I was comforted by this thought during my pregnancy and am again now as Dustin and I try to muddle our way through raising what we now refer to as our "practice baby."

The first week of Kiz's life, she was an absolute angel. I remember boasting to my father and stepmother that she never cried and only woke up to eat. They had had a "problem child" situation with my half brother, who apparently didn't sleep through the night until he was six. My father and stepmother laughed when I reported back to them the details of Kiz's behavior perfection and replied that they "hoped it stayed that way."

Well, it fucking didn't.

We started to experience Kizzy's new, horrible lifestyle late in her second week of life. She would be her normal angelic self during the day, but at 7pm, every night, as if someone flipped a switch, she would start to freak out. Screaming, crying, flailing her little hambone arms as if trying to punch us, kicking her legs violently...pretty much just having a baby meltdown. The first few nights it happened,I convinced myself that the kid was dying. Her shrieks were so loud and so ENDLESS that I could only see pain being the reason. She would carry on for hours upon hours...sometimes as late as 3 or 4 in the morning...then suddenly she would pass out. She could be mid scream, wide eyed and flailing one second, and then completely out the next. It always started and ended the same...no warning other than the hands of the clock.

We, of course, mentioned our little darling's behavior to our doctor, who diagnosed her with reflux, something I'm on the fence about. It does seem like from time to time she's suffering from heartburn...she'll bring up some fluid and wince in pain...but I'm not fully convinced that that's what's causing her nightly freak outs. Mainly because she was placed on medication at two weeks old and it didn't stop her from losing her mind at 7pm every...fucking...night.

The doctor also mentioned the dreaded "C" word at her two week...and one month checkup...and said that sometimes babies just cry for no apparent reason and we should be thankful that it isn't all day. That seems to be the category we fall into.

As a new parent, you're already exhausted. Babies need to eat ever two hours. At least my baby does. We can't give her more than two ounces at a time or she barfs. (Another reflux sign, and we learned this only through trial and error. One time I laid the baby down to sleep all cute with Daddy after eating a good four ounces. Dustin ended up with four ounces of vomit in his beard and mouth.) So combine the need for the baby to eat every two hours with the fact that I wake up every fifteen minutes or so to make sure she hasn't fallen victim to SIDS and the result is really...really...REALLY tired new parents.

I'd love to say that 8 weeks later we have adjusted to this lack of sleep. We haven't. I still have moments of sleep deprivation craziness. Usually it involves sobbing and being really angry...but as mentioned in a previous post, sometimes it includes delusional moments of seeing phantom racoons and chasing them around the house. We've both fallen asleep feeding the baby, which results in a pissed off, soaking wet kid. The house has become so messy that we sometimes hum the "Hoarders" theme music instead of lullabys. I've drank my weight in red bull and Dustin gets coffee jitters.

Now before I start sounding like a blog for birth control, I will say that there are indications that things are getting better. The doctor said that colic should start to subside around three months. (Of course it could go on much longer, but I refuse to accept that that will be our case.) One of the indications that colic is getting better are the appearance of "good" nights. We've had a few of these. A "good" night is when instead of screaming her head off and demanding to be carried around by Dustin like some sort of grumpy princess in a never ending parade around the house, she mearly fusses and sometimes yells out in frustration for a few hours before falling asleep. We've also noticed that "fussy time," as we've dubbed it, now stops no later than midnight. This might not sound like progress, but when you've been up with a shrieking kid from seven pm until four am, it's amazing.

And for the record, we've accepted all unsolicited advice when it comes to soothing a colicky baby. We've swaddled, rocked, used gas drops, tried to let her cry it out, bought a swing, gone for walks, gave baths, shushed, pacified, ran a vacuum, given her to relatives to hold, tried to overstimulate and understimulate...it's true colic because nothing works for more than a moment. Actually, the bath works, but you can't keep an 8 week old in a bath from seven pm to midnight...but don't think we haven't been tempted and perhaps continued the bath until the water was cold and she was complaining because of THAT.

One of the things we actually enjoy about this kid's antics is that she already has a personality. It's sort of like some great cosmic puzzle trying to figure out what she wants...and then when you do it's one of the best feelings in the world. I've now figured out most of her cries. I know hungry, tired, uncomfortable and bored. It impresses Dustin when I know what she wants. For example this morning she uncharacteristically woke up early and was uncomfortable. I did the mommy fumble of checking her over while half asleep and discovered that her foot was jammed up in a weird position. After an adjustment, she was fine.

Dust and I are also proud because we've managed to get this kid's days and nights straightened out. Once the horror of fussy time ends, she's good to sleep for the night. And when I say "sleep for the night" that means being up every two hours to eat but then immediately going back to sleep. And she'll continue this pattern until about 10am the next morning, which allows us to get some rest, even if it's constantly interrupted rest. And more recently, she's been sleeping for nearly four hours right after fussy time, probably from being fucking exhausted from acting like a shithead for five hours straight.

We suffered a breastfeeding setback at five weeks and had to switch to formula. I won't get into the reasons why we had to stop, but I will say that I feel formula guilt. I know she's fine...she actually prefers the stuff, which I think smells like metallic dirt...she's gaining weight and doing all the things a two month old should do, but I sad I wasn't able to continue with the breastmilk.

We also cosleep. I hesitate to mention this because of the stigma attached, but I believe it's a parenting choice. We do it safely, and I'm really not interested in everyone's fucking cosleeping opinions. Everyone has a stance on it...and honestly when I was pregnant, it wasn't even a debate for Dust and I. We always wanted to sleep family style for as long as it's not weird. Everyone is entitled to do whatever is best and safest for them. For us, the method all three of us prefer does not include a crib.

The latest development is smiling. And not the involuntary "I just farted" smiling that I mentioned in the last post. These are honest to God, "hey I'm happy to see you" smiles. Even better, when she wakes up for the day, she's often at her smiliest. There's something really great about the three of us waking up smiling and happy to be with each other.

Of course Kizzy's smiling usually stops after a few minutes because she's effing starving and soaking wet.

So basically that's where we find ourselves. I'm dreading/looking forward to the holidays because we plan to drive back to Long Island for them. I'm dreading because she'll be getting her next round of shots on the 21st and might get a reaction, she has never been in the car for more than 45 minutes and that seems to be her threshold as she screams to get out of the carseat, most of our holiday activities occur during prime fussy time, I'm scared of all the germs she will come into contact with and we'll be staying with my dad and stepmom and I don't wanna ruin their holiday because of a screaming kid keeping them up all night.

On the other hand, I haven't gotten to show this kid off yet and I bought her some really adorable Christmas dresses.

(Side note: Remember when I said I wanted a boy? I'm on board now with a girl...mostly because of the outfits. I had no idea that I had such an affinity for pinks and purples.)

I'm gonna close on a vain note. Of course, EVERY mother thinks their baby is beautiful, but Kizzy is especially gorgeous. Her hair is coming in blonde, her eyes are a really beautiful crystal blue (we've been told they won't change...the doctor commented on their intensity and noted that that means they will remain light) she has Dustin's full lips and almond shaped eyes framed by the longest eyelashes ever and my big rosy cheeks (face and butt.) She has delicate little seashell ears and long fingers. She somehow avoided inheriting Mom and Dad's larger than average sized noggins. She did get a strawberry birthmark, but it's where the sun don't shine so she lucked out. She also gets "milk neck." If you're a parent you know what I mean. If not, it's when formula or breastmilk gets caught in your infant's chubby neck folds and you don't notice until you smell it. It's as gross as it sounds.

Her appearance makes sense. Most beautiful people have really shitty attitudes. Here's hoping that Kiz doesn't turn into an uggo once the colic is gone for good.