I have a good baby. I really do. She eats every 3-4 hours. She almost sleeps through the night- only one feeding. She spits up a lot but at least she is consistent. But sometimes, sometimes, she starts crying in the afternoon- her fussy time- and she. just. won't. stop. Nothing. Not one thing can calm that little Bob Marley Wailer. We feed, we change her diaper, we try "tummy time" (something my brother, of all people, told me about), we swing, we walk outside.... we try every trick I have learned in the last five weeks. Just sometimes though, it will not end. The little Stay Puft Marshmellow Man tells it like it is. And it is, apparently, loud and painful.
But, oh, Brother. Not "oh brother" but "oh...Brother"-- my Brother is the baby whisperer.
She will not stop crying because it is so blasted hot- poof! Brad swoops in with those big arms and voila! my baby is quiet. She will not stop because it is too freaking cold- baddabing! Brad finds a little crook in his arm and shhhh! my baby is sleeping. She cannot let up because it is Tuesday- abracadabra- Mr. Merry seeks and destroys even the tiniest whimper out of her.
Brad Merry, Baby Whisperer for hire.
Today, she was great- GREAT for hours while I worked. Could not have asked for a better 4 hour stretch. A feeding and two diaper changes later, nothing could calm her. Five minutes, I kid you not, five minutes having a little QT [that would be Quality Time and not Quiet Time... Ford was with us] with Uncle Brad and I have a new baby. She is back to being Number One Cagle with the prettiest eyes and dainty little nose.
I am afraid what will happen after I feed her.