Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Waaaah! The baby is crying...again


This is how I see Gabriel 90% of the day. Okay, that may be an over estimate, but its a lot!
I don't remember the other babies being so fussy. Sometimes he cries to eat, because he needs a diaper change, because he's tired, because his brothers are being too loud, or just because.
Yeah, that's "normal" but at three months old I'm still waiting for him to start being happier and less fussy.
He has no sleeping or eating schedule (its not recommended to put a breastfeeding baby on a schedule, they should eat whenever they are hungry and want to eat) and so it makes it that much harder to figure out why he is crying! Is he tired? Is he hungry? Nope and no. So what's wrong? Often all I can do is just rock him and sing "You are my sunshine", while he screams into my ears. haha
He also doesn't let me put him down, which makes housework hard to do. uggh So for those coming to visit-please don't judge me right now on my house! There may be dishes in the sink, unfolded (but clean, yay!) laundry on the kitchen table, and a week's worth or dirt and crumbs on the floor. *sigh*

I love babies and wouldn't trade him for anything...but I sure can't wait for him to grow up just a *little* bit more...enough to be on more of a sleeping and eating schedule.

I'll end this with one of my favorite poems/lullaby, which while looking for it on the Internet I was surprised to read the title. Oh it's all explained now!

Song for a Fifth Child

Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth
empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
hang out the washing and butter the bread,
sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I've grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
and out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
but I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren't her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
for children grow up, as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.


by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

5 comments:

FarrFamilyCircus said...

Love it! I've heard the last few lines of that poem before but never the whole thing. That's so great! There's times that I just want to tell people...Hey! My house isn't going to be clean anymore...I'm going to be in the backyard playing with my kids!

Beckstead Family said...

What a beautiful poem and so true. My parents gave us a sign that reads "Cleaning a house while children are growing is like shoveling snow while it's still snowing." So true! It's hard getting past those feelings that you aren't doing enough but you're doing the most important job...Mommy. :O) Keep up the good work. Oh yeah, you singing to Gabriel while he was crying...made me smile.

Miranda said...

What a sad face! I definitely know how you feel. Andrew was (and at 8 months still is, somewhat) the same exact way. I don't know how I'd do it with other kids - so you're amazing!

Misty said...

I hear ya! Can we say Kamdyn? He was fussy until he got mobile, about 8 months! MaShayla was fussy til 5 months and Keaton was fussy for a year! Hang in there! It will eventually get better!!

Amy said...

I LOVE that poem, thanks for sharing. I also know how you feel. baby #3, max, was like that for me! it does, eventually, get better!