In the past two weeks, I've read 600 articles about how to cure colic. Seems that I'm blessed with a kid where nothing works. (Or more accurately, where no technique works reliably all the time).
Here's what does work--taking care of Mom so that she can withstand the stress of hearing colic crying bouts for 4 to 5 hours a day.
Here are the things that I've used to so far to distract myself
-having real tea parties with an adorable 5 year old
-making sarcastic jokes with my 9 year old
-reading the entire four part series of Nora Robert's "The Bride Quartet"
-watching Celebrity Apprentice on Hulu
-making out with my husband (which never fails to lift my mood but also runs the risk of creating another colicky Benjamin soon. LOL!)
-and my new favorite trick--going strawberry picking! Who cares if the baby wails unfailing next to you while there is blue sky above you and fresh strawberries to pick.
I feel bad about the constant distraction, however. I can't really picture my role model Mommy Mary eagerly turning the pages of a romance novel while breastfeeding the infant Jesus. Wouldn't she just supposed to stare lovingly at the baby's head the while time? Even when Jesus turned as red as chilipepper from constant crying?
WHY don't the artists paint Jesus as a real baby anytime in those glorious Middle Age oil paintings? Dude, any mother can look sweetly at her child when he's fed, clean, and happy. It's takes a REAL daughter of Mary to look lovingly at a baby who is covered in poop, screaming red with rage, and likes to bite hard during the latch on process.
I'm a fraud. I feel like a "real" Carmelite would just jump into this suffering experience and not waste one precious drop of spiritual insight from this cross.