Breakthrough (Part One)

I've almost set a new record for being out of blog-world the longest. I will post pictures to all of our latest adventures soon. In the meantime, I want to let you in on a breakthrough I had these last few days. In an effort to keep the post from becoming as long as the Old Testament, I'm breaking it into two parts. The first one will explain why I had need of a breakthrough in the first place. The second will attempt to lead moms to the same resource that I found to be helpful and will, hopefully, bring others with cranky babes (and maybe cranky older kiddoes, too) some hope and rest.

Hazel, my best friend's baby was colicky. They lived overseas when she was born so I didn't get to experience her crying first-hand. But after we got a few days with baby Caleb under our belts, I went to Emily, along with other many baby sources, to inquire of colic definitions and determine if Caleb fit the mold.

'Cause, trust me, Caleb cries a lot. Just ask the poor women who watch him at church for me every Thursday night. If they don't page me to come get him before the hour and a half is over, then they are inevitably hanging their heads out of the nursery door searching for me as soon as time is up. But, most of you out there have not experienced "Cranky Caleb." And that's because I think the majority of his crying stems from not being talked to and held 24/7. You see, Caleb LOVES people and when he's got someone's attention he's a happy camper! Which is great. Unless there are no people available to respond to his enthusiastic gurgles and shrieks. In fact, on the rare occasion when he gets in some good "conversation time" with one of his little toys and finally seems happy, we have resorted to ducking/army-crawling/stealthily sneaking past him, just below his eyeline. Because if he catches sight of us, if he glimpses another human being, he will be reminded that there are more interesting people out there than his toy lion and the wails are once again inevitable.

So you can imagine that he does not enjoy when my time is stolen by big brother, housework, a telephone call, or ANYTHING that does not involve me making googly eyes at my lime-light craving second-born.

But that's not our only battle. Caleb also loves being active and he is so angry that he had to come into this world in the body of an immobile infant. If you look deep into his eyes you can see the heart of an Olympic runner just aching to be set free. (Which, I assume he got from one of his pseudo-uncle Grant, because there are no running genes in the Domino or Lanier families!) Caleb wants to move so much that his swing, vibrating chair, and bumbo are all gathering dust. No fancy confinement contraptions for Caleb, thank you. He'd rather hitch a ride in my arms or in his favorite place, the baby sling. (If you haven't swept and mopped the floor with 15 pounds of squirmy strapped to your chest, you don't know what fun is!)

Caleb also hates bottles. Despises them; won't have anything to do with them. And it's not for lack of trying. This child, whose inner dinner-time bell goes off every three hours, has been known to completely skip a meal, or even TWO, when they're offered bottle-style. It's just something else he turns his nose up at. He'd rather go for 6 or 7 hungry hours and wait until I get home. (Which isn't going to bode well during my first entire night away later this month.)

Caleb still wants to nurse every three hours at night. My pediatrician finally recommended that we start him on cereal in hopes that he'd make it for longer stretches during the night. He took the cereal for a few days and then went on strike. It seems he's just as opposed to the spoon as he is to the rubber nipple. So there's still no eating (or sleeping) going on.

And finally, the last thing on my list of "what makes Caleb challening" is nighttime. Mainly his resistence to accept that there is such a thing. While every piece of literature I can get my hands on says babies his age should be sleeping about 15 hours a day, Caleb is coming in closer to about 10 or 11. His naps last, on average, 20 minutes. He falls asleep around 8 p.m. and nurses at 11 p.m. and then 2 a.m. By about 3 a.m. he decides that his night is over and he'd rather get up and play.

Since this has dragged on for nearly five months, I think it's safe to say I'm a bit of a zombie most days. One night last week I woke up and Caleb was in bed with me, nursing. And I had no recollection of getting up to get him at all. That was a little scary!

So, in the end, Caleb is not colicky, just cranky and crochety. And all this craziness began to fuel my mommy guilt like nothing ever has before!

In a moment of weakness I decided that Caleb was a complicated baby because I had made him that way. Because I couldn't devote myself to him as I had with Micah. I felt guilty for being on the go so much. I assumed that my current routine of car trips and special outings for Micah had robbed Caleb of the luxury of a schedule. He didn't nap well or sleep well because I wasn't enforcing a good schedule. I made him cry so much by not being able to come running at the tiniest whimper.

I told Terry I was going to fix it and I hunkered down in the house for three straight days. We didn't go anywhere and I wrote down every detail of Caleb's life. I was going to make his wonky routine into a schedule and I was going to turn him into an easy baby if it was the last thing I ever did!

And then, as always, God interrupted and brought some perspective...