Mr. Crankypants

Wow...yesterday must have been the day of fussy babies. Was there a full moon or some other natural phenomena going on that us mom's weren't aware of?

Owen and I had an excellent day...a low key day, but an excellent one. Started off with a few hours of snuggling in bed, a very late breakfast...but all in all, we were keeping with his feeding schedule and he was getting another day of breast milk.

He was napping at all of the right intervals and it was looking like a fabulous day. I had made my calls to the public health nurse, who I played phone tag with all day but we finally connected at around 5:30pm and she's going to hook me up with a lactation consultant who specializes in pumping moms. Perfect!

I even had time for a well rounded lunch, called our investment guy to figure out my savings account (I've been on maternity leave since April 16th, applied for my benefits on the 29th and am still waiting for a payment from the government!! Another gripe for another day...) and even booked myself a hair appointment for the 8th (the day we get Owen's newborn pictures done with Rosita!).

The day was going great! C came home from work, fed Owen while I pumped (which wasn't getting worse in terms of supply, not better...but definitely not worse!) and got ready for the gym.

Then it happened. Owen turned into Mr. Crankypants. I should have known that by the time C got home from the gym, Owen would need to eat again. I should have remembered to boil water earlier in the day since we're onto a can of powdered formula. I should have known.

Apparently, my mind was elsewhere and I forgot.

Queue pouty, screaming, crying (with tears!! holy break my heart!) and all around miserable baby.

I felt pretty horrible, I'm not going to lie. I was trying to calm him, and it seemed that singing to him was working, right up until the garage door went up and C walked in the door. Fussy, fussy, fussy.

I had him put a pot of water on the stove and he grabbed his keys and ran to the store for premixed formula and diapers (another post for another day...why can't manufacturers agree on a newborn size?!).

After getting Owen fed and changed, it seemed that we could not soothe him. No amount of rocking, singing, bouncing, walking, talking, shhhing, or rubbing his back helped. We took turns trying to get him to calm down, but it seemed that he was so overtired that there was no helping him. He also had the toots...really bad, and we wondered if perhaps he was constipated or had a bought of indigestion.

We gave him some gripe water and popped in a soother. That worked...for a few minutes at least.

I was getting pretty exhausted at this point, probably around the 9:30 mark, and we all settled on the couch to snuggle and watch the Bachelorette. Thank GOD for the PVR.

By 10, Owen was fast asleep on my chest after much resistance and my butt was hurting from the angle I was sitting at. Okay...don't panic...you can move without waking him. C thought I was nuts to even try, but seriously, it was move or not be able to and have to sleep on the couch over night.

Thankfully, I was able to move and once the Bachelorette was over, was even able to pass Owen off to C for his final feeding before bedtime and get the diaper caddy and feeding caddy ready for beside the bed.

Yesterday must have been the day for fussy babies. Two of my online-mommy friends had fussers either overnight Monday, or all day yesterday. I felt so helpless last night trying to get him calmed down and knowing that nothing was going to work...he was just too tired to let it.

That being said, he's been excellent tonight. It's 4:30am, he just fed about a half hour ago and I have time to pump, make my list of questions for the lactation consultant who will be visiting at some point today or tomorrow, and have a few minutes of peace and quiet to myself to do other things like blog and check emails.

I'm starting to like 4am. Everything's quiet.