The Bitching Hour

It’s still absolutely amazing how mystifying these creatures are.  For instance, for about 2 weeks we had developed into a BIT (and I stress that) of a routine.  Stella would sleep a bit more during the night vs. the day, but each and every day around 6:00-6:30 she would begin cacking.  The cacking led, inevitably, to full blown bitching.  She would bitch for about 1.5-2 hours straight, before ultimately wearing herself out.  I often time this myself, as I figure that is a great time to have my one small glass of red wine (yes, I am allowing that, although I am incredibly conscious of when I drink it so as to not impact my breastmilk).  I sit with my cranky daughter in the rocking chair, with subtitles turned on the TV, wine beside me, rocking her and holding a pacifier in her mouth until she drifted off.  I call it the Bitching Hour. 

Wednesday, the Bitching Hour started earlier and lasted longer.  I didn’t think much of it.  Until Thursday.  She screamed at me all day Thursday.  That was one of the few times I just cried in complete frustration.  By the time Will came home from work (in a bad mood himself, and around 8:30-9:00 at night due to his stupid, stupid schedule), the whole house was at each others’ throats.  When Stella woke up screaming the next morning, I wanted to run away from home.  Fortunately, she stopped abruptly and spent the rest of the day happily eating and quietly sleeping, which was something else she hadn’t been doing a whole hell of a lot of during the day.  I was elated and practically gelatinous with relief.

In any case, during the marathon screaming session, I had anxiously perused the internet, trying to determine if her stomach was upset.  I don’t even remember how I got on that track, but it was a mistake.  No matter what you look up about babies, it’s all normal, it’s all dire, it’s all an emergency, it’s all something you’re doing wrong.  Her stomach upset went from a typical thing (such as a growth spurt), to acid reflux, to GERD, to lactose intolerance, to my diet, to….. I could go on and on.  Then came the sleeping; kids her age “average” 15-16 hours of sleep per day.  She’s not even been logging half of that.  Considering I had just seen a documentary called “Born Schizophrenic,” about one of the earliest-presenting cases of childhood schizophrenia which started with the infant not sleeping, I had more to stew about.  One minute your head is telling you it’s nothing.  The next, you’re an awful mother whose diet sucks. 

I think I need to stay off the internet for kiddo issues.  It’s too anxiety-provoking.

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About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
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