The Witching Hour

One of the things they don't tell you about when you become a new parent (I'm finding an increasing number of these things popping up in the last few weeks) is the Witching Hour. I take offense to the name by the way, or should I be able to handle this situation better? This so-called "Witching Hour" is basically a period of an hour or more where your baby will just cry as if they are hurt and there isn't much you can do about it.

Aengus's hits sometime between 3-5pm or so and goes until 6-7pm, unless you can trap him with a nap beforehand. Most of the time, Will conquers the Witching Hour with the Moby wrap and a trip outside. Aengus cannot resist the snuggle. I, however, tend to use what my son considers my greatest assets: the breasts--I basically keep him eating until he lulls off to sleep.

Today, I was not so lucky. And, I was foolish enough to try to take him with me to the lab for some research. (Naive, I know.) He was not pleased. I left after I couldn't console him with bouncing, the Moby, or even the breast. The fussiness continued until just before 6, when he finally settled after eating for an hour and a half and I was able to put him next to me on the couch for a nap.