These new Tiny Littles are awful.
Let me tell you something about newborns and infants under 4 months of age. Only their mothers love them. Well, and their fathers and other family members. Close family members, though. Everyone else is just being polite.
I have been shit on, puked on and subjected to endless hours of screaming, not crying, screaming. We’re on week forever and I may not make it out of this with my sanity intact.
I literally just listened to over an hour of ear-piercing shrieking from a baby who hasn’t eaten in 7 hours. And let me tell you, we’ve tried everything. At this point, we just have to let the Little have a hunger strike and hope we live through it. And that’s advice coming straight from the bleeding heart at the hospital who helps new mothers who are breast-feeding.
If she’s throwing in the towel, I’m throwing mine in with her.
Scream away, Little, I’ll be here when you emerge on the other side.
On a positive note, the Little who was previously the screamer of our group has decided to not scream since Monday. That was the day when they both went to town and I made the parents come and get them…and leave my house as quickly as they could.
So now I’m going to take some deep breaths, sit on my ass (or assume the fetal position) and try to remember this sage advice:
UPDATE: I’m happy to report that both Tiny Littles buckled down and got together for a nap before going home. In two months this will all be behind me and they’ll be wheelin’ around daycare like pros. I will repeat this mantra daily until we are there.
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