Sorry for the fuzzy photo. Not much good light this morning again, courtesy of another partially cloudy South Florida day.
But I digress. Don’t let that smile above fool you. A short lived happy period in the AM before many subsequent hours of fussy MacFussington. And poor Craig, he bore the brunt of it as I spent the day finalizing details on my upcoming fall semester courses.
As I mentioned in my last post before I went off on an playard/high chair tangent, it has been impossible to keep Wesley happy for any real amount of time in the last week or so (or what feels like months). I wasn’t sure what to chalk it up to. His drool has increased ten-fold in past days: is a tooth finally ready to make its appearance? He is fighting a losing battle (as are we) with his bottle at almost each and every feeding: would he prefer the challenge of solid food? Mysteries, mysteries.
Then I remembered a book my e-friend Ariana recommended on her blog once, The Wonder Weeks, and sure enough, we’re coming to the end of Week 19 (how wonderful — just in time for us to go back to work and school), an apparently “predictable…leap” in our baby’s “mental development, characterized by the three C’s [Crying, Cranky, Clingy).” And since I couldn’t wait two days in the mail to read all about it, I was able to find some of the pages online in the meantime, and boy, did they hit the nail on the head.
“A very demanding little one, in particular, will cry, whine, and grumble noticeably more often than she did in the past.” No joke. It’s been quite the whine fest over at The Higher Nest.
He “may not only want to be carried around constantly but also expect to be amused through [his] waking hours.” Check. He “may even start to cry the moment you walk away.” And another check.
The book even mentions how much more head support little one requires. And sure enough, just this very week Wes started to do that thing where babies rest their little noggings on your shoulder and nuzzle up against you. (Which would be sweet, if you weren’t already so frustrated you wanted to rip your own head off). Guess he’d been so proud of holding his own head up, he’d never bothered to do this until now.
The chapter encourages me to keep at it with his usual eating practices, as this is just a phase, so we’ll hold out a bit longer on starting solids in earnest (even though our pediatrician told us we could start already. But this is fodder for a future post).
Thankfully, if this book is the word of baby gods, I can expect my child’s “sunny side” to shine through again at 21 weeks (give or take) once the little egghead completely undergoes this developmental milestone. So we’re talking another week of hell here. I pray the universe gives us the strength to hold out that long without Craig or I losing our minds first.