Neck Maintenance

Before Abigail made her royal entrance, I took a class on baby maintenance. In this class we learned about everything you could possibly dream, except one important thing; neck maintenance.

As you can see in pictures, Abigail has no neck! And as you have also noticed, this is made up for by having multiple chins. In the many creases and crevices of Mount Abigail, there can be found, at any given time, neck cheese. Daddy has coined this disgustingly delightful term for the whitish, greyish, sticky, rotten milk smelling, film that forms all along the crease where her neck should be.

This "film" smells so bad that before I take Abigail out for any social event where people will be holding her, I take care to wash her lack of neck. Of course, I also attempt this during our bathtime. And you are saying "What is the big deal?". Well, in case you did not know, neck cheese is a precious commodity. So precious, that Abigail is extremely protective of it.

The second I try to lift Abigail's second chin flap in order to mine for the cheese, she pushes her head downward and in the process creates an additional 3 chins. These 3 chins come down like a concrete barrier between me and the neck cheese. Abigial's eyes get big and she stares me down as if to say

"Go ahead, I dare you. Try and break through my minions of chins!"


"Not only will I try, but I will conquer and forge every bit of neck cheese out of your caverns and into the trash!"

I make the first attempt and lift chin number 5 up. To my surprise, underneath is another fleshy layer which covers the cheese. Do the folds of skin ever end? I try and lift that flap, but with the weight of the other 5 chins, I just cannot maneuver. No, I will have to resort to the "lift".

This technique is where I lift Abigail up and hold her on her back. My hand does not hold up her neck, but instead, the very top of her head. I see Abigail struggle to keep her chins down, but inevitably, she gets tired and loses control! Yes! Her head falls back just enough and I see it, in all its glory. It is almost too bright and I look away for a second.

There it is. Long strands of neck cheese lining every crease of her soon to be neck. With one fast wipe, I get all the cheese and her neck is clean. Abigail looks defeated but pleasantly surprised that she does not smell like rotting milk anymore. Until next time....

"You just wait until my neck muscles are fully formed! The neck cheese will be mine!"

Sausages

Since the last post it appears that Abigail returned from Mothership Colic and the awful baby left in her place returned home. I attribute this to time and to our new found talent of swaddling.

Yes, it is true, that we stopped swaddling Abigail at day 10 because she always got her arms out. "She must not like swaddling" we assumed. Oh, silly first time parents.

Through all my reading during colic desperation, I came across a common theme. Swaddle...Swaddle...Swaddle...and do it TIGHTLY. Though the nurses did their best to teach us in the hospital, we never seemed to get it right. It was a magical and mystical talent that seemed only to be perfected after dealing with newborns all day long for years. We relegated ourselves to the knowledge that we would never be swaddlers. And here I am, reading that in order to get some relief from Crabby Abby, I must learn how to swaddle and swaddle GOOD.

I looked around for a Mr. Miyagi type character to crack the whip and train me hard on this talent. I am standing on some strange pole near the ocean, carefully balancing Abby and a square blanket. Swaddle on.....Swaddle off....Swaddle left...Swaddle right.
*return from daydream*

Alas, I am on my own and with only these ridiculous pictures in a book showing step by step instructions. First I am insulted by the pictures because they show a baby who is laying on the blanket smiling and not moving. Hello! I am trying to swaddle a screaming, upset, flailing armed baby! Did I miss the step where we got her drunk?

Anyhow, I read all steps and the last pointer: Do it as tightly as possible. Do not be afraid to hurt the baby. If you can fit a finger between the blanket and the baby's chest, it is not too tight.

I try the technique, and though Abigail turned bright red in the face, I got it right. Perhaps the key is cutting off the airway so that they cannot scream? (jokes) Abigail cried at the first fold but by the third, there she was, like the baby in the picture. Calm. Her eyes were fixated on me as if to say "so, what are we doing next?".

The swaddling ensures that Abigail cannot move her arms and for extra security, I tuck her arms in her pants before the swaddle. The lack of movement provides a sort of calm and peace to the brain. Imagine all the thoughts going on in Abby's head at the end of the day..

"I'm hungry. I have to fart. Is that a burp? Would you burp me please!? My left arm is moving. Now my right is moving too! My left one, there it goes again! Oh, great, My left leg is copying my arms! Why won't everything stop moving? I have a wet diaper! Don't lay me down alone! My right arm just hit me in the head! What am I chewing on??"

I imagine that once she is swaddled it is more like...

"I'm hungry. I have to fart. Is that a burp? Would you burp me please?! How did I get you for a mother...."



Since the swaddling, Abby has been sleeping 4-6 hours at a time at night instead of 3 hours, puts herself to sleep if I lay her down awake, and naps happily all alone in her nursery. Praise for swaddling! yay!

And, for those of you who have yet to master the art - here are my step by step instructions and tips:

1. Lay blanket on the floor, or the bed. Somewhere where the entire blanket is flat. Lay the blanket in front of you like a diamond.

2. Fold down the top corner of the diamond about 5 inches.

3. Place baby on blanket with the top of the shoulders laying across the straight line created by the fold you did in step two. Their shoulders should be on the crease of the fold. Head completely above it all.

4. Place baby's arms in pants up to the elbows (this step is optional).

5. Take the left corner of the diamond (the right side of the baby) and fold it over the baby's chest, tummy and both arms. The blanket should be big enough to wrap over and underneath the baby's bottom. Ensure blanket is flat under the baby so he/she does not have to sleep on bumps!

6. Take the bottom corner of the diamond and fold it upwards, over the feet, tummy and up to the shoulder. Tuck it under the baby's left shoulder.

7. Take the piece of fabric directly to the right of the baby's head and pull it TIGHTLY down over the baby's chest. This should leave a large straight piece of fabric on your right (baby's left).

8. This last piece of fabric should be pulled TIGHTLY across the baby's belly/chest, around their back, pulled over the baby's left shoulder and tucked back in front.

9. Ta-dah. You have made your own baby sausage! Keep trying!

Abby is to the point now where when I lay her on the blanket she smiles.

Crabby Abby

Well, I can't say we weren't warned. It appears that last Sunday Abby was kidnapped and replaced by a spawn from mothership colic. And you are thinking "I thought she already had colic" and funny, but I find myself thinking the same thing.

It turns out that no. Not at all. Previously, Abby was fussy. NOW Abby has colic. And per doctor's warning, we are in the peak period. This is characterized by the peak of "pain" in Abby and the peak of frustration, anger, resentment, discouragement and "I suck at being a parent" in me. There is something so completely disheartening about doing everything I can to "fix" what is causing the crying and getting no effect at all.

Abby is undergoing what I think is some sort of mid-development crisis. She cries a whole lot more lately, and non-coincidentally, so do I. The worst crying is done during feeding time.

It begins when she wakes up from a nap smacking her lips. This is her subtle hint that she is a little bit hungry and could use some food sometime soon. So, I change her and talk to her, rub her belly, put her on her tummy on her tummy-time mat and go to make her some food. Within 1 minute, it is apparent that Abby is no longer slightly hungry but is absolutely STARVING and cannot wait another 10 seconds for food without willowing away. I make and mix her formula as quickly as possible while chanting across the room "I'm coming! Oh, Abby! When was the last time you starved to death!"

Finally, I pick up Abby from the horrible tummy time torture mat and bring her to the chair for her feeding. After a complicated calming exercise of rubbing her head and kissing her face, I get the bottle in her mouth. Abby makes an extremely satisfied noise with the first few sips which Adam and I mimic as "nyum, nyum, nyum". Abby's eyes connect with mine, her hands fold together over her chest, and I begin to think we are calming down.

Ah, but there was my mistake. About 15 sips in, Crabby Abby emerges. First she gets frantic. I can see it in her eyes. They get HUGE and she arches her back. Then she starts whining (yes, while drinking). This gets messy as formula starts spewing out of the sides of her mouth. The worst is yet to come. Inevitably, I find myself playing the "keep the bottle in her mouth" game while she violently thrashes side to side. This is all while she is STILL EATING. It ends when she finally full on cries and can no longer eat. Then I sit her up to burp her and she completely stops crying and stares at the posters on the wall like nothing happened.

I sometime wonder if she is just trying to convince me that my home confinement has made me dillusional. She looks at me after the burp like "Ok, so I am ready for more!!" And I am thinking "Ok, but I need a break after my recent bi-cep workout".

Yes, I have tried feeding her while she is sitting up to answer your question in advance. The only thing that this does is cause the spewing to get better distance. She actually got some on the cat one time. Poor Whiskers had no idea what hit him.

For those of you who are concerned with Abby's health, or are going to surmise that she has a formula allergy, it is not the case. Abby's symptoms have been discussed with the doc and she is just "fine". We are "waiting it out". Some say for another week, some say until she is three months, and Adam and I were thinking that this might last until she is 16. I can't seem to picture an Abby who is awake without being all out of sorts.

Maybe she whines because she doesn't know what to do with herself. Well, Abby, I am not sure what to do with yourself either. But, I love you. We love you. And despite how hard it is for us, I know it is much harder for you. I hope we get through this soon, and you don't have to hurt anymore. We can't wait to have you back.