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Motherhood Looms – Where's My Yarn?

Infant Behavior – Bring Out the Claws!

As much as I love holding Eudora, as much as I delight in the new and different infant behavior she displays… there are some things that are just…  Ouch.  On one hand, this infant behavior is a good thing because it’s baby signing.  On the other hand, there’s that “ouch” factor.

What’s going on?

Well, when Eudora gets hungry, she starts opening her hands and closing them.  This is essentially the baby sign for “milk.”  I reinforce it by using the sign when I bring her a bottle.  That’s not the problem part.  That’s actually awesome.

The problem part comes when I’m holding her and feeding her.  She continues to make that sign, but she does it by scratching.  I keep her nails short, but she’s got nails like mine: it doesn’t matter how short her fingernails are; they are still razor sharp.  She’s very nearly drawn blood with me.

Now for me to feed my baby girl, I have to keep a burp cloth between her hand and mine in order to avoid pain.  (Granted, she still pukes like no tomorrow, so I have to have a burp cloth, anyway.  Even with that, though, she still sometimes manages to get my pants.)  She’s actually managed to scratch my hand until I’ve nearly bled.  So when I saw this on Facebook, it certainly seemed to strike more than a little bit of a chord within:

It’s true.  It doesn’t matter how often I trim her nails or anything else.  She’s got nails just like mine: paper thin but can deliver a slice more painful than a paper cut.  I almost feel that this particular infant behavior is my karmic justice for all of those times that I’d accidentally sliced Norton or the husband with my own claws.  Sure, I felt bad when I drew blood from Norton’s neck with a fingernail.  I felt bad when I sliced the husband’s leg with a toe nail.  But I feel agony when Eudora scratches me.  I strongly suspect that there’s nothing that she can’t cut with those things.  She could probably scratch diamonds with those wickedly sharp little nails.

I’m guessing that the only thing that I can do is wait.  After all, time heals all wounds, right?  Even the ones inflicted by tiny baby claws?

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