And The Britney Spears Parenting Award Goes To...

After months of crying, screaming, squirming, and hollering, I think we've found the answer to Maisy's problem. Reflux. Early last week, she kept us up all night. It was only then, when my own comfort had been way compromised, that I called the doctor and asked for an appointment. (Before that, I'd accepted the nurse's suggestion that she might just have bad gas.) He prescribed some medication, and within six hours we could tell a difference. Now, one week later, she is a markedly different baby.

I felt horrible when I realized that I could have prevented weeks of pain for her by simply giving her some nasty-tasting concoction once every 8 hours. My mother-in-law tells me this is just the beginning of a long road of guilt.

I will say this; Maisy can still fuss with the best of them from time to time. I think she's going to have a strong personality. As long as she doesn't start donning pink wigs...