Pardon My French

I'm definitely creating a high-maintenance hillbilly

So much to update, so little time. Thank God I succeeded in convincing my husband we neeeeeeeeded a baby swing (which people my MIL's age find completely bizarre and mistrust, by the way). Not so much convinced as wore down. He's still working on convincing me to let him convert it to be powered by electricity, which I'm sure he could do but I don't trust the swing to handle it well and AM JUST NOT GOING TO LET HIM STRAP MY BABY INTO THAT. Call me overprotective, that's okay.

So, the one-month checkup went well. I had run into the doctor by chance earlier in the week at the PMI and had talked to her about the screaming and tenseness and so forth, but she said it was colic and would go away in a month or so. We had just given up and accepted the fact we have a baby that will fuss or scream for hours after she eats, but at the checkup the doctor really observed her Jekyll/Hyde behavior and said, "You know, I think she just might have some reflux. I'm going to give you a treatment for it." Now we have a baby that will actually take naps and seem content after meals.

I think the Good Cop/Bad Cop roles have been already set in stone...guess which one I am. Yup. The one who cleans out the boogers does not ever get to be Good Cop. So I love it when she smiles for Daddy but I am still all about the Smiles For Mommy instead of the Hey, Woman, Stop Bugging Me face.

Yesterday, she finally noticed the cat. Sort of. She stared at her twitchy tail but I'm not sure that she realized the cat is alive whereas the fish on her mobile are not. I'll still count that as a first contact, though.

Some of you may be wondering if the labor dances had any lasting effect on my child, and I think I now have an answer. If I picked her up and held her against my chest in the fetal position and reenacted gentler versions of labor dances, she would calm down a bit. We did a lot of dancing around together late at night and she tolerates my off-key singing pretty darn well.

Today, I put on some bluegrass for the first time right after her mid-morning meal. She was in her bouncy chair and as soon as she heard the banjo, she lit up with a big grin. Coincidence? I think not. So I started singing and dancing for her, and she gave another grin and a coo... and that was all the encouragement I needed. I tried out 3 different styles of flatfooting -- the regular 4th of July GRITS version, the HeeHaw version, and the Just Had A Drink of Moonshine and I Feel Good version. She liked them all, which is only appropriate for the daughter of a woman who tore out the bustle of her wedding dress doing the wagon wheel with her sister.

When I got tired and stopped, however, guess who started to fuss. This was clearly a "Hey, come back" fuss and not an "I'm In Pain" one, so I suppose I *could* have let her stay in her chair and cope. She was so cute though that I picked her up and danced with her, and I got more smiles again. I'm supposed to be the smart one here, but was totally being manipulated. This is a Very Bad Sign but we did have fun times this morning, which is a big change from before. Now comes the hard part, I think. I'm telling myself I will be firm and will not be forced into giving The Momma Show every morning. Unless I want to, of course. Sigh.