… you have the kid all figured out, they go and change it up on you.
The punkin (aka punk) will be five months old on Monday. Due to a blocked tear duct when she was first born (and the nasty green goo growing in it) she had to be on some relatively strong antibiotics for the first couple weeks of her young life. Now, antibiotic allergies are routine in my family, so we try to not get so sick we need them. Punk had no choice, and the damned things really did a number on her developing digestive system.
Big sister, the princess (four going on 14) was such an easy baby, but oh no. Not Punk. She decided she needed to be colicky. I can’t count how many brands and types of formulas we went with until we found the right stuff – Similac Soy. I’m still reluctant to use it because of the fructose corn product in it, but she doesn’t scream like her leg is being ripped off from gas pains anymore, so it’ll do for another month or so until we start solids. 😀
(Yes, I know tatas are tops for feeding but medication I had to be on for fibromyalgia sort of eliminated that option.)
That said, back to the topic at hand. Finally, about two or three weeks ago, she started sleeping in stretches greater than four hours a pop. For one full week she went from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m. Hallelujah! Alert the media! Praise the angels!
And then it happened.
Again, princess got her first four easily, at three months old. Punk, on the other hand, is going to do it her way. And her way looks to be the top two and at least three on the bottom, any time now.
While I don’t want to rush a minute of her life, because I know these days go by so quickly … dammit can’t we just get the teeth over with? Please? Mommy’s gonna lose her damn mind.