In response to Unclewesty's call to our lack of bloggering (see, Westy, how I spelled my made-up word however I wanted ;-D ha!), and since, apparently, my posting pictures of the same old kid day after day doesn't count, I shall BLOG!!! (My only warning is it was a rough weekend, so it's not all peachy keen in mood today.)
So this Mommy thing can be TOUGH. (I know this is a shock to all of you.) I have told anyone who will listen how grateful I am for my sweet, happy, sleep through the night baby. I have never taken how blessed we are with her temperment for granted. But I will say that the fact that we don't have a fussy baby makes her really fussy, difficult times so very difficult. I don't know if it's because we haven't had to learn how to deal with this or if it's because her fussiness seems like it MUST be for a REAL reason (not just fussy baby) since she doesn't ever do it. Because she never screams, when she DOES scream, I feel like there's generally something REALLY wrong with her (fever, teething, something's pinching her, etc.) And really almost everytime she screams (I use this word to distinguish from just normal fussing or basic crying) it is because there is something truly wrong.
All this is a preamble to the story of my deciding to travel with the 4 month old and without the Daddy this weekend. We planned our driving Friday night to coincide with our normal bedtime, so hopefully she would sleep the whole trip, then transfer right to Carly's crib (which she is not currently using). This plan of action has worked well in the past. She did sleep the whole trip, but she woke WIDE AWAKE when we got to Scott and Brittany's. But she did go right back to sleep after nursing, so nothing too bad. Just a little less rest time for me that night (as she still woke up at 6am Eastern time).
Saturday, however, did not go quite so smoothly. For some reason, Tucker decided Saturday that she would NOT nurse. This meant that for every meal (every 2 hours for my big baby), I had to give her a bottle, then pump to replace it so we'd have one for the next meal. Again, a little stressful and more exhuasting than usual, but nothing too bad. Then, Saturday night, she would NOT go to sleep at her normal bedtime (chosen by her, not us). And she cried and cried and screamed and screamed because she was so sleepy and wouldn't go to sleep. Nana and I finally decided to try a car ride, which is a given sleep-aid for my baby. She did sleep after a relatively short trip, but woke right up when I transfered her to her crib. She she stayed awake HOURS after her normal bedtime and only went to sleep when she did because Nana rocked her for more than 30 min. in her carseat. (Thank heavens for Nana!)
Sunday, of course, began at 6am Eastern time (because my baby's actually part alarm clock). She nursed our first time in the morning, but only with much fitting and distraction from Nana. Church - good. Lunch - good. After lunch, happy and talking to everyone she saw. But she once again, refused to nurse and then skipped a meal. After waiting on that meal for an hour, I finally decided to drive to Scott and Brittany's, nurse there, and then drive the rest of the way home (at least I'd be making forward progress). Got to Scott's fine, then tried to nurse and she refused. (And I'll note here that my baby is not indecisive. She's not one of those you can talk into nursing. If she doesn't want it, you're not going to make it happen. The more you force, the fussier she gets and the fussier she gets, the less likely she is to do it. NO CLUE where she gets that strong will. teehee) So Nana gave her a bottle while I pumped (again, thank heavens for Nana). She downed her bottle and then SCREAMED for more. She screamed and screamed and screamed. (Just ask Carly.) So as soon as I was done pumping, I gave her a little more and she downed it and SCREAMED for more. So I gave her a little more (now we're at a total of twice what we usually eat in one meal). She cried a little after downing that one, but Nana got her calmed down (while I cried at the sink washing stuff). (Again, thank heavens for Nana.)
I will add here that many of my tears at this point were at seeing the stark difference of my nursing experience to Brittany's. I LOVE nursing my baby and am so glad that I've been able to, but I struggle EVERY DAY to get enough to keep my baby happy. We never have extra. I stress everytime I have to use one of my precious bottles of milk, for fear of not being able to replace it. It's very stressful and hard work, but I think it's worth it, and I love being able to do it. But Brittany just has this amazing over-abundance already. She, less than a week in, has more than 3 times what I have 4 months in. That contrast combined with Tucker's refusal to nurse just did me in. (And that's not to begrudge Brittany HER experience, but rather wanting some of that myself. )
Back to our original travel story, I got her in the car, she was alseep before I hit a mile, and all was well until my pause in Carrollton to hand something off to Nannette Elise. She started waking up there, so I hopped in the car quickly (because motion generally equals sleep) and got going. My attempts failed. She woke all of the way up and SCREAMED all the way to 75 (close to an hour). Most of that hour, we cried together because there are few things that make you feel more helpless than being in the driver's seat of a moving car with a helpless, screaming baby in the back, to whom you can give no comfort or aid.
Jump to Monday morning, and Tucker woke up as sweet as possible and nursed like nothing had ever been any different.
This is all to let you all know that I am no longer traveling with my baby. She is officially a HOME baby now. Day trips only. If you want to see her, she'll be at the house on Dahoma. (Which means if you want to see me, I'LL be at the house on Dahoma.)
I DO NOT KNOW how parents of colicky babies survive. (And again, I apologize for the non-peachy-keen mood of this blog, but that's me today.)