I haven’t really written much about my daughter. Those that follow me on social media have seen a few pictures, but ultimately, I have been pretty busy and preoccupied with a world which seems to be in an endless spiral towards ending. Whether it is the rhetoric around the withdraw of troops in Afghanistan, the constant encroachment of government over faked crises, or just the ridiculous nature of politics in general, I have had a lot of reasons to rant, and not felt all that kind the last couple weeks.
Part of that is what is happening in the world. The other major part is my own lack of sleep.
The culprit?
That beautiful baby girl you see in the picture.
For reasons unbeknownst to me, God has seen fit to bless my wife and I with a girl who is the most excited and the most inconsolable right at bedtime when we need to get sleep. It has improved recently, but only in degree. 3 months old, tomorrow, this little gem of a tiny human, has the lungs of a banshee and the looks of a siren.
Despite my sheer exhaustion and learned ability to sleep through indirect fire, she manages to keep me awake for hours. My wife will tell you I still sleep early, at least compared to her insomnia, but I promise you whatever I am doing is not restful. There has not been a morning in almost 5 months that I have woke up in my bed and thought to myself, “Self, that was a great night of sleep.”
Instead I limp my way to the living room, start the coffee, and often stare at the drips as they fall to their temporary home before being consumed and turned into some digestive product. The only highlight, is that coffee won’t end up in a diaper. Not yet, anyway.
When my beautiful banshee isn’t making me curse my pillow, I dread the inevitable but fair observation from my wife that I haven’t changed a diaper recently. I have been fortunate that many times I get only wet diapers, but occasionally, as my wife will attest, there are blowups. As I was writing this exact paragraph, in fact, she had one.
I did my daddy duties.
Those are not enjoyable.
The absolute worst part is at night when we are getting ready for bed, though. Her bowel patterns produce a lot of gas at that time, which means colic, which means pain, which means crying. The only thing that consoles her is mommy feeding time and the only thing that makes the problem worse is mommy feeding time.
It is a vicious cycle.
Even then, I need to stress it is worth it.
When she coos at me when I get home from work, my heart melts. She legitimately grins and enjoys the entertainment her brothers try to provide. Making the goo-goo’s and the ga-ga’s brightens her eyes and, as long as she isn’t gassy, brings a smile to her tiny and cute face. It makes the stress of my day disappear when she smiles at me when I raise the pitch of my voice and make some indiscernible sounds.
There is also the smiles when I figure out what is bothering her.
Between the supine mountain climbers, the squat-and-thrust, the pike, the run-down, the bicycle, or other random maneuvers I make up as I go, I have finally figured out how to distract her while also moving those little gas bubbles through her itty bitty digestive system. The resulting smile is totally worth it, even in my sleep deprived stupor.
You know what will reduce my sleep deprived stupor? Sleep. Also, coffee.
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Yes I understand about the sleepless nights ! When your baby girl is not happy or comfortable it’s hard to sleep with the screaming and crying ! She’s such a blessing to your family and you love her and in the end it’s all worth it ! ☺️❤️