Twist and shout

Two days of mostly smiles were great; today, though, Madeline was fussy again. She provided lots of shouts and flails. But even fussy days have their loving mother-daughter looks.

There were a lot more uncertain, vaguely distressed looks, though.

The reason for that particular uncertain, vaguely distressed look quickly became clear, as Madeline blew through her diaper, her outfit, and my clothes too. After she'd been changed and I'd showered, she was still unhappy. Something had to be done!

The only thing that seemed to calm her was having her tucked in the wrap as I ran laps around the apartment. In order to cut down on the hazards of this soothing method -- trampling Summer or tripping over Petey, e.g. -- I hopped on the (stationary) bike. The pedaling motion rocked my torso enough to put her to sleep; it also made pictures blurry.

When I stopped pedaling, she woke up and started to fret. Unable to find a way to calm her this time, we had to resort to the strip-it-down-and-start-over technique.

As it turned out, this was exactly what she wanted. Even with snow falling outside and a bit of chill inside, her fleece sleeper was too warm. Her newfound, nearly naked calm didn't last either, though: next came fussing, then feeding, and only then was she sleepy enough to get dressed and tucked back into the wrap for an evening walk. The snow was gone, and seems to be done.

Tonight suggested that perhaps all the day's fussiness was a device to fool us. Normally Madeline falls asleep in one of our arms before we set her gently in her co-sleeper; otherwise, she squirms audibly and sometimes shouts. But tonight after I'd changed her diaper and clothes, swaddled her, and sung her half a verse, I set a still-awake Madeline in the co-sleeper and out she went. Just like that.