Over the past week and a half, Juliet has tended towards excessive fussiness between the hours of 3:00 pm and 10:00 pm. Thankfully, she is rarely fussy the entire seven-hour stretch, but the 7:00 pm feeding always seems to fall within whatever hours she's going to be fussy.
I should stop right here and explain what I mean by "fussy." Instead of going down for her nap and staying down, she'll wake up frequently and cry. No amount of time is enough for her to cry it out. You can go in the nursery and put her pacifier back in her mouth, but that will only last a maximum of 15 minutes. Then, she spits it back out and starts to cry again. On bad days, she just cries the entire time, even if you hold her. On the worst days, her crying is actually screaming and sometimes quite shrill. And on these worst days, she will sometimes scream through her feeding. It can be extremely frustrating because you know she needs to eat, but she is just so beside herself that she won't settle down and actually eat. In a moment of sheer desperation early last week, I stood up and swung her from side to side (twisting at my waist) while trying to feed her. It was the only thing I could do to get her to stop crying and eat. I'm surprised she was able to eat like that and not throw up, but hey - whatever works.
This past Thursday, Ray and I worked out a tag-team gym schedule. He went to the 5:00 pm class, and Juliet and I met him there in time for me to work out at 6:00. He took Juliet home with him and was sure to leave in plenty of time to give her the 7:00 pm bottle. She had been just a little bit fussy for her 4:00 o'clock feeding, but nothing major, so I didn't think about the possibility of Juliet being a challenge for Ray. My mistake.
When I walked in our front door at 7:15, Juliet was screaming. I winced and immediately felt sorry for Ray because I know how frustrating it is to feed her when she's like that. I turned the corner into the living room, and my poor, sweet husband was sitting on the couch in his workout clothes with a bottle in one hand and Juliet in the other. Over his ears was a set of Army-issued ear protection. That's right. He was wearing the same ear pro he wears on combat missions and on the shooting range. It looks pretty much like this:
I somehow managed not to laugh and asked if he was okay. He explained that she'd reached a pitch and volume that were such that he could feel his eardrums vibrating. Ear protection was the only option at that point. After a few minutes, I showed him my swing-and-feed technique, and we got her to finish most of the bottle. It's days later, and I'm still unsure about that whole experience. On one hand, I find it hilarious that our seven-week old daughter reduced my husband to wearing ear pro. One the other hand, I'm really sort of disappointed that I didn't think of using it myself. I so wish that I had gotten a picture of this scene. I would have made it our Christmas card.
Here's proof, though, that they both made it through okay. Saturday morning snuggle time with Dad.
I should stop right here and explain what I mean by "fussy." Instead of going down for her nap and staying down, she'll wake up frequently and cry. No amount of time is enough for her to cry it out. You can go in the nursery and put her pacifier back in her mouth, but that will only last a maximum of 15 minutes. Then, she spits it back out and starts to cry again. On bad days, she just cries the entire time, even if you hold her. On the worst days, her crying is actually screaming and sometimes quite shrill. And on these worst days, she will sometimes scream through her feeding. It can be extremely frustrating because you know she needs to eat, but she is just so beside herself that she won't settle down and actually eat. In a moment of sheer desperation early last week, I stood up and swung her from side to side (twisting at my waist) while trying to feed her. It was the only thing I could do to get her to stop crying and eat. I'm surprised she was able to eat like that and not throw up, but hey - whatever works.
This past Thursday, Ray and I worked out a tag-team gym schedule. He went to the 5:00 pm class, and Juliet and I met him there in time for me to work out at 6:00. He took Juliet home with him and was sure to leave in plenty of time to give her the 7:00 pm bottle. She had been just a little bit fussy for her 4:00 o'clock feeding, but nothing major, so I didn't think about the possibility of Juliet being a challenge for Ray. My mistake.
When I walked in our front door at 7:15, Juliet was screaming. I winced and immediately felt sorry for Ray because I know how frustrating it is to feed her when she's like that. I turned the corner into the living room, and my poor, sweet husband was sitting on the couch in his workout clothes with a bottle in one hand and Juliet in the other. Over his ears was a set of Army-issued ear protection. That's right. He was wearing the same ear pro he wears on combat missions and on the shooting range. It looks pretty much like this:
I somehow managed not to laugh and asked if he was okay. He explained that she'd reached a pitch and volume that were such that he could feel his eardrums vibrating. Ear protection was the only option at that point. After a few minutes, I showed him my swing-and-feed technique, and we got her to finish most of the bottle. It's days later, and I'm still unsure about that whole experience. On one hand, I find it hilarious that our seven-week old daughter reduced my husband to wearing ear pro. One the other hand, I'm really sort of disappointed that I didn't think of using it myself. I so wish that I had gotten a picture of this scene. I would have made it our Christmas card.
Here's proof, though, that they both made it through okay. Saturday morning snuggle time with Dad.
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