two month old, free to good home

It’s been a rough week.

Last night, I was all set to make a funny, lighthearted “what I’m drinking” post to commemorate the Super Bowl and Kenzie’s 8-week birthday, except…I was on my feet all night, and all I ended up drinking was water. My darling little angel decided she wanted to cry for hours and hours and hours. The only thing that helped soothe her was endless laps around the house. I’d start to sit down and somehow she’d KNOW and start to wail again. We’ve worn ruts in the carpet.

Happy two month birthday, kiddo.


Remember a month ago how I said she was so, so good? Well, someone stole that baby and replaced her with one that hates me. In her defense, she does have these really cool episodes of happiness where she smiles, laughs and has conversations with me in baby chatter. But then she turns on me and starts wailing for no discernible reason.

She has different cries, and often we can tell a fucking-feed-me cry from an I-need-to-take-a-dump-so-bad-it-hurts cry from a you-should-have-put-me-to-bed-an-hour-ago cry, and these are somewhat easily resolved, but sometimes she’s fed, burped, diapered, rested and warm, and still screams like she’s getting paid for it. Someone please reassure me this doesn’t last forever…

Add to that the continued lack of sleep (up to 4-5 hours or so a night, but still seriously lacking), and the fact that my husband’s had to work a string of 12-hour days, and you have a mom on the brink of insanity. I sort of understand now why some people shake their babies and drown them in bathtubs and say the devil made them do it. (Because the BABY is the devil.) This is why I think all those “16 and Pregnant” chicks should have had abortions. It’s hard enough to be a good mom when your baby was wanted and planned. If you’re resentful and not very smart, a screaming baby can take the wind out of your sails real fucking fast.

Dude, but seriously? I love her so much it rips me apart. She’s the only person I’d jump in front of a train for. I’d MURDER any of you people to keep her from breaking a nail.

I’ve also realized a whole new kind of neurosis in motherhood. In my former life, I worried about nothing. I was probably too casual for my own good. I only worked hard enough to not get fired. I spent money like I had some. I drank beer whenever I wanted. I didn’t worry about getting fat. I didn’t ever make to-do lists or write down my goals or make vision boards or stress about my self-worth. I lived. I breathed. I was totally fucking zen without even trying. Now? I’m a bundle of nerves.

I still put my ear to the baby monitor 37 times a night to make sure it’s working. When she’s napping too soundly, I poke her to make sure she’s still alive. And the other day in Trader Joe’s, I heard a baby crying and nearly had a panic attack.

I haven’t even really wanted to go anywhere because it involves packing up the baby and all the miscellaneous crap she requires, but most of all, DRIVING with the baby in the car. I make excuses. It’s raining, the baby will get wet. It’s too sunny, the baby will go blind. It’s too cold, the baby will die. Neither I nor the baby breathed outside air for weeks on end. The only place we went was the doctor’s office for her one-month checkup.

Then finally I went batshit enough to venture out with her in her stroller. I fully anticipated her throwing a crying fit a mile from home and all our neighbors stepping out on their lawns to shake their heads at what a horrible mother I was. What happened? We got a mile from home and she sacked out in the stroller and slept the whole way back.

And the other day, I schlepped the baby out for coffee with another of my worthless unemployed mom friends. I insisted we go at 3:00 in the afternoon so nobody else would be there in the event she threw a crying fit, which I fully anticipated. And all the baristas behind the counter and all the patrons behind their laptops would stop and stare and shake their heads at what a horrible mother I was. What happened? We sat down and she sacked out in the carrier and slept the whole time.

Okay, now that I’ve vented, here are some of the good things:

As I said before, baby chatter. It’s calling cooing and that’s really the perfect word for it. She makes an “O” with her tiny little delicate lips, and goes “oooooh!” and then smiles like she knows she just did something brilliant. I can’t get enough and there’s no shortage of retarded things I will do to get her to make that sound.

I think my baby is going to be a redhead (which probably explains the attitude). Her eyes have so far stayed blue, but her hair is different and weirder every day. She was born with a full head of dark blonde hair that got wispy and kinda fell out (although we have no idea where it went). Now it’s coming back in very fine and kind of a strawberry blonde. (My husband has brown hair but his beard is kind of reddish.) Kenzie, a variation of MacKenzie, is Scottish for light-skinned (RACIST!), so clearly, the name fits. I’ve just been calling her the pale one.

I always said before I had a baby that I didn’t want to have one of those trashed baby houses where everything is a mess and there is baby stuff everywhere. Well, now I have one of those trashed baby houses and there is baby stuff everywhere…and I don’t give a fuuuuuck.

But for a few exceptions, she’s a fantastic sleeper. She goes to bed sometime between 10 p.m. and midnight and usually sleeps straight through until 4 or 5 in the morning. (The other night, I patted myself on the back for getting her down by 9:40. Then she woke up at 3 a.m. and I kicked myself in the crotch.) Hungry or not, she’s pretty much ready to get up by 7 a.m., but she will usually have a good nap in the late morning and again in the early evening. (These are the times when I hurry up and smoke crack, masturbate and mainline vodka.)

We did have a terrible string of days around week six when she had a growth spurt and woke up FAMISHED every 2-3 hours. It was rough because I had it in my head that she couldn’t possibly be hungry, so I wasted a lot of time trying to console a half-starved baby back to sleep. Finally I got smart and just let her guzzle milk to her heart’s desire. I’m glad that’s over, and so are my nipples.

Last, and best: when she sucks on her pacifier in her sleep and it makes this little clicking noise, my heart fucking melts.


23 thoughts on “two month old, free to good home

  1. All I can think of is that episode of Family Guy where Brian is freaking out like “OMG WHAT IF THAT HAPPENED TO DYLAN!!??”


    brb back to picking up hobos and waking up to the smell of whiskey, transients and regret.

  2. #1 – she is adorable.
    #2 – I’m sure the crying thing will pass. It has to, right? I know very few babies/toddlers, but I know a lot of older people, and they don’t do that, so it must go away eventually.
    #3 – I work REALLY REALLY hard at being zen (I seldom succeed). I am an OCD stressball, and I usually revel in that. Now, however, I’m afraid that having a baby will make me completely insane. (Insaner?)

    • Or maybe it makes you the opposite of whatever you were to begin with! My friend said she’s pretty keyed up normally and now she’s one of those laid back hippy moms (which is what I THOUGHT I would be)…but you will be insane either way. =)

  3. When Felix was 7 weeks old, our Midwife warned us about the dreaded 8th week. And she was right! The exact same thing happened to us: cute, relaxed, happy baby suddenly became an apparently bipolar screaming machine. One minute he was smiling, laughing and cooing, the next he was like AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I HATE YOU I NEVER ASKED TO BE BORN!!!! for three hours straight.

    This is the deal, according to the midwife: around this age, the babies start to take in much more of their surroundings and what is happening around them, but their brains are easily overstimulated and can’t take much input. So the “oooh! aah! coo! look how cute I am!” phases are them starting to notice stuff, and the AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH is a sign of overstimulation.

    With Felix, it was pretty much 7 days of perma-screaming. Funnily enough, at the same time my husband was working insane hours and would often come home between 12 and 1 a.m. to find me on my sixteenth hour of carrying around a screaming baby. GOOD TIMES.

    • dude, you are better than my baby book, WTF. We see our pediatrician on friday, so hopefully he would have reassured me in a similar fashion (Now I’m going to test him!) But it’s really good to know I’m not the only one. And I love the name Felix!

      • I’m going to write a book and call it “Shit my midwife says.” Seriously, that woman is better than all of my baby books combined.

        My husband was skeptical about the name Felix (was totally my idea…) but now neither of us can imagine him any other way!

  4. Awww stay strong momma! If the crying continues it may be the dreaded colic. My advice is chiropractic, and yes its totally safe! I’ve seen babies get adjusted and its very gentle. The moms swear by it! Otherwise I have nothing to offer. Except the Irish way- jameson on the pacifier. Hope she gets past this!

  5. Omg her little face… how do you get anything done and not just stare at her for a bazillion hours? I especially like that paaank and green polka dot blanket. Lil babies… ❤

  6. First of all, I’m happy to see that my son’s future wife isn’t afraid to voice her opinion.

    Second, your house is no where near trashed; however, watching “Hoarders” will make you feel better.

    Third, I also go to the craziest lengths to get the spawn to smile. My voice gets really high, and I do this weird half-assed Elmo impression. It’s disgusting.

    And finally, leaving the house with a baby is a high maintenance pain in the ass, but you actually get used to packing up all this shit. I still get anxious when we go out. It’s like going out with a little time bomb and you never know when it’s going to go off, but eventually you get used to it. I swear.

  7. Can I swap you that two-month-old for my 34-week-huge baby belly? I know I’ll live to regret it, but I’d take a week of screaming baby to not feel like I’m lugging the entire contents of my pantry every time I, oh, dare to move.

    Seriously, though, glad to see there’s so much babylove–even when she’s an occasional noise factory. And funny how we change with these baby creatures; I wanted to get checked for a personality transplant when I arranged her room the other day and cared enough about decor, for once, to cry because I didn’t like it. (I promise I still want whiskey and rum, though; that hasn’t changed).

  8. My hair did that falling out thing too. I was born a redhead, then it was blonde and now it’s brown.

    I like how your cat is watching over the baby, but trying not to look like she’s watching over the baby in that picture.

  9. I’m ignoring all the crying parts and focusing on the cute parts. Babies in Bumbos slay me every time.

    I’m what I like to call a type B neurotic. I get all worked up about stupid things I can’t control but toooootallly don’t care about the things I should. If something breaks down in our house I freak out and scour the internetz for solutions, but empty water bottles rolling around on the floor of my car don’t phase me. My neurosis also extends to sleeping. I am a very light sleeper, so that fact alone coupled with being a new Mom and I pretty much expect to never sleep until I am at least 50.

  10. I seriously love how real you are. motherhood obviously doesn’t seem to be all rainbows, but in the end it all seems worth it when you have a little one like that! She doesn’t look like she’s capable of being a devil crying baby in that last photo!

  11. you make me wish i had the sense enough to blog when i was going batshit with having to deal with a tiny baby all those years ago. i would’ve written this post. loved it!

  12. Marie, you are HILARIOUS.
    Seriously though, things do get better. I have 3 boys and my first almost made me go insane. He cried. And cried. And cried. And when he got bored with that, he cried. I took him to doctors and nothing was wrong. One doctor even said you have an RK, when I admitted my New Mom ignorance as to what an RK was, she told me “Rotten Kid”
    That aside, he got bigger, cuter, smarter and is now a handsome 20yr old Navy Sailor living in Hawaii.
    Your daughter will grow into a beautiful girl who adores you. From the ages of 12-18 you will more than once be tempted to give her away again, but that will pass too.
    Being a mom is like riding a roller coaster, sometimes thrilling and exhilarating and sometimes you just want to get off before you throw up.
    Enjoy the ride, it’s over much too quickly. 🙂

    • Aw, thank you so much! We had a really great week until today, when she started crying at 11 a.m. and basically didn’t stop until an hour ago. So it was really nice to read your comment, it came at just the right time! (I just forwarded it to my husband, blubbering). But we’re finding things that are helping: she loves being naked and being swaddled, equally. So we just alternate. Ha.

      Congratulations on your cute, smart, handsome sailor, it sounds like you did a great job. Cheers!

      • Glad I was able to help, a little anyway. And coincidentally, I too enjoy being naked and swaddled equally ( I know, TMI, right?)
        One other thing that might help when she won’t stop crying, hold her while running the vacuum cleaner. For some reason the white noise is soothing, will often times put a baby to sleep AND you clean at the same time. It’s a true win/win.
        I still have two boys at home and make them do the vacuuming, also a win/win. I feed them obscene amounts of food so it’s only fair they get the cat hair off the rug. My 14yr old can polish off a pizza in under three minutes. Not a piece of pizza, a PIZZA. Scary

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