As the Dude ventures down the path of blogging about family life, including a newborn, it’s inevitable that the subject matter will veer towards poop at some point…possibly often. Given the first four weeks with Little Dude, my guess is poop could be a highly discussed topic.
Week four seems to be giving us some indication of the crankiness source. We are not overly confident in this theory, infants are a fickle lot, but all signs point to some sort of development, or lack thereof, with digestion.
Poop is what it is. A natural fact of life. But for an infant, and especially Little Dude, it’s pretty much a matter of survival. Really, everything at the age of four weeks is a matter of survival; it’s hard to be tiny, defenseless, and completely confused by everything around you. But, for Little Dude, poop seems to be his kryptonite. Serious discomfort.
The Boy shares hints of the serene quietness conjured in the mind’s eye with the thought of an “infant,” but the quiet periods have been short-lived. Those tiny hints of calm have been separated by eating, sleeping, and fussiness. However, the calmness is gaining strength, and Mrs. Dude reported today the Little One was smiling all day. Smiles are a rare occurrence, never mind a full day event.
His body is beginning to operate more efficiently, and the stretches of calm, sometimes even happy, states are increasing. The waves of fussiness are almost always ended by some form of gas; burp, fart, poop (he’s such a dude!). Once he gets it out, the calm spreads through his body. Uncomfortable digestion seems to be the source, and now that the digestion seems to be running a bit more smoothly, the periods of fussiness are decreasing…in length anyway.
This is a big improvement from week three where colic was able to maintain a strong position on the list of possibilities. We may not be able to discount the Big C completely, but we are rapidly moving past this theory…or, at least the Dude is using the power of positive thinking.
In parts of the East Coast where I’ve lived, there is a cliché about the weather that seems to apply to infants (probably most aspects of life); if you don’t like the weather, wait an hour. In other words, if you are faced with a challenge, a thunder storm or a fussy baby, give it some time, things will change.
Just when we get this digestion figured out, I’m sure another challenge will develop, but for now, it’s great to see the Little Dude moving past the largest challenge in his life….and we’ll be ready to tackle the next one.
PS – Since we’re on the subject of bodily functions; I love how changing a boy’s diaper is similar to participating in a cheesy game show. Every time I’m wrestling with the Little Dude to change his diaper, I feel like I’m on an Asian game show with tacky English humor being dubbed in.
How quickly can you separate the cloth from the clammy skin, apply a goopy white substance, drag his butt in the air, slip a new diaper under, and grapple with the flailing limbs to secure the sticky straps, all before you’re sprayed in the face? There are a range of theories to prevent this hilarious struggle, but reality tends to trump theory. Babies are surprisingly strong and pee is difficult to shield. Changing requires speed and efficiency.
There should be a Dad Olympics.