The Truth About My Son  

I've been in denial about this for a long time. I've made excuses, beaten around the bush, come up with every possible explanation. But last night, I finally came to grips with the painful truth:

This was not an admission I take lightly. I love my so fiercely, protectively, overwhelmingly; and when you tell someone that you have a "fussy" child, they often automatically assume that child is a trouble-maker, or somehow inherently bad. (Well, you know what they say about people who assume...)

Baby C isn't a bad kid; he isn't a problem child, or the devil incarnate, as my mom's pedicure-ist (is that a word?) recently described her own infant daughter. He's a sweet baby, easy with his smiles and infectious with his laugh... as long as you're doing what he wants, when he wants it.

Take, for example, the last 24 hours. DH worked all weekend (and by "all," I mean 13 hour shifts for three straight days; he hasn't seen either child -- at least while they were awake -- since Thursday), so I was the sole caregiver. G was fine; the older she gets, the more helpful she becomes -- with a few exceptions, of course. But Baby C: well, he was another story.

On Sunday, Baby C decided he didn't want to be put down... at all. After waking up at the painfully early hour of 6am, he literally cried every single time I put him down -- for a nap, in his high chair for a meal, in his Johnny Jumper, in his exersaucer, on the ground next to his sister. The only time he stopped crying was when I picked him up; so I held him -- with five minute breaks here and there to go to the bathroom -- from basically 6am until 7pm, when, exhausted from his day-long campaign against... well, I'm not sure what he was fighting against... he fell asleep in my arms.

C's clinginess, however, is just the beginning. He also refuses to eat any baby food that comes from a jar, tub or bottle. That means he'll only nurse, and will only eat the fruits and veggies that I make (with the sole exception of Gerber Puffs; thank goodness for those!).

Oh, and did I mention he breaks out in a rash whenever he even looks at a disposable diaper? So much for the two packages of Target-brand diapers I have in his closet, "just in case" we have a cloth diaper accident while on the go.

I'm actually hoping that by admitting to Baby C's fussiness, the universe will take pity on us both and teach him some calming tactics (and me some coping tactics)... which I'm hoping you can do for me as well! Do you have any tips for dealing with a demanding baby?