I couldn’t let the God’s Nipple post die without a sequel. I am going to milk the metaphor for all it’s worth.
Since my last post boldly went where no post has gone before – under my shirt – this post might as well stay there a minute. Humor me while I run the nursing imagery to the ground.
Baby Ziggy has a problem with sucking in too much air while he is feeding. I made that clear. What I did not talk about in my last post were the consequences that are associated with so much nothingness gulping. For Ziggy the result is body scrunching, leg flailing, hand clenching, stomach hardening, seemingly life-altering gas pain. The poor little dear. His face turns red, his eyes squint closed, and he fusses and squirms and wails and flails until the most ungodly of sounds resonate from his adorable diaper-clad backside. He makes noises and expressions only a mother could love, and even I am on the fence when all of that flatulence is going down.
I hate to see our child so tormented, so there are some things I do to try to ease his pain. I give him gas drops. I put thick white cream on his raw red tush. These things won’t fix him, I know. They are just band-aids to his underlying problem. Until the tiny dude learns to face the right way and pony up to the breast bar he will continue to be afflicted by the air bubbles he is sucking in.
Not the best photo, but the t-shirt was perfect.
Our little Ziggy is learning his first spiritual lesson the hard way. There are consequences for your actions, precious one. Welcome to the world… where life doesn’t have to suck if you just suck on the right stuff.
Okay, I think I’ve drained this topic dry.
Xo,
Kara
P.S. – Rest assured that Zig’s episodes don’t last very long or I wouldn’t be making such light of his situation. For the most part he is a happy and comfortable boy. 🙂
love and a cardboard box 