Colic Survivors Unite!

Have you been to Jennifer's blog this week?

Did you happen to notice who was Site of the Week?

Go check it out, I'll wait.

dum-de-dum-de-dum

Cool huh?

I smiled when I noticed the "colic survivors unite!" tag. So true. But then I started to wonder. Have we really survived the colic?

Elizabeth still cries. A lot. In fact, she's sitting at my ankles right this very second screaming her bitty head off for no apparent reason. Maybe it's because the operator won't complete her call as dialed or because all our Webkinz have died because the site won't log us on or maybe she's still wondering what the deal is with Facebook, but either way, she's mad and she's screaming.

Twelve months later and I am still getting three hours of sleep a night. Sure, I enjoy spending time with my old buddy Alton, but I am sure he'd be just as cute funny during the daylight hours. At midnight, three, and six Elizabeth sits right up in the bed and shrieks pitiously while signing "more milk" over and over. Yes, it was cute the first time, but now I think she's just being mean. The sleeps-through-the-night spot in the baby book is just screaming (Haha, I am so punny funny) to be penciled in every time I open it, which I admit, isn't that often, but still.

I've tried the cry-it-out in the crib method but, no, she never cried it out. Not even a break in the caterwauling. Do it for a few days Dr. Ferber says, but that was just enough time to convince her that her room is a haven for all that is evil, a place right out of a Stephen King novel, so now she screams when we enter her room for any reason, so that's all fun. Who needs a diaper change anyway?

My husband has tried to keep her at night, but when I heard her muffled screams from the garage while the husband was snoozing on the couch, I didn't think that was such a good idea. Oh, she wan't alone. The dog was with her. Cowering. Funny, but he suddenly likes to be outside and alone all day and night. Hmm, wonder why?

She won't take a bottle. She won't take a sippy cup. When the sun goes down she must be pinned to my side. Or my arms. Or my boobs. I rock and jiggle and feed the hefty toddler who takes up two-thirds of my bed. I know one day, and one day very soon, I will miss this, but right now, I'm just tired. So. very. tired.

I know I've said it before, but it still rings true today: If you are getting eight, shoot, six hours of sleep, just now I hate you. Well, not really, but I am very, very jealous.

Colic survivors unite! Sort of.



I am the Princess and I rule this house. They will have to learn this eventually.