Well, we hit the four-month mark. I've been told that four months can be a tough time...and boy, they weren't lying. The magical, predictable, content little angel that we've gotten used to has had a rough few weeks, and now we're faced with the gong-show that is placating an unhappy infant. It goes something like this:
Baby is unhappy. You sing to baby. No dice - baby begins fussy noise-making. You make funny faces and sing to baby. This amuses baby for about 30 seconds, and then fussy noise-making resumes. You pick baby up, walk around, show off various points of interest in the house (i.e. mirror, plant, fridge, lamp, and repeat). This seems to work...baby seems calm. In an moment of pure insanity, you think you can put the baby down so you can go to the bathroom. BIG MISTAKE. Hysterical cries of your cruel abandonment ring in your ears. You pick the baby up. Your stupid songs and silly faces won't work this time, I'm afraid. Screaming and tears follow (oh, the tears! Instantaneous guilt, I tells ya).
It's not his fault. We dragged him on a crazy trip to the midwest, which involved two airplanes, a lengthy car-ride, and a hotel. In addition, it appears he may be teething. On top of that, he's busy trying to learn how to grab an object, open his mouth for a spoon, and roll over. I'd be cranky too, frankly. All I have to do is make formula and change diapers... so what am I complaining about?
Luckily, I get a great big smile in between these little fits. Strangely enough, this little gesture can moderate an entire day's worth of screaming. What a magical little creature this baby is.
