My dear ol' dad has always had a wonderful way of stating things. He's blunt, to the point, and what he says always makes sense to me.
For example: "Babies are like inmates, except they're smarter because they have a few more brain cells. They don't have to worry about food or rent or anything like that. They can just sit there all day long and figure out how to get what they want."
Oh, how right he was.
My son, Flynn, is 6 months old. Right on the heels of his latest growth spurt, he had his second bought of teething. I like to think myself all tough and hard, but when my baby is hurting I feel obligated to make him feel better. I'll carry him around and usually there isn't a whole lot of housework getting done on these days.
This is all well and good while he's teething, but it's afterwards that my usual mellow baby wages war upon the entire apartment complex. Not only does he want to be constantly held, but for reasons that are completely unknown to me he wants to be held while I'm standing up. This makes no sense to me and by the end of one day I'd had enough of his crying.
Thinking it would calm him down, I put him in the stroller and we went for a walk.
Well, the good news is he did calm down. The bad news is he was so mad about losing this battle he glared at me for the entire walk. Every time I looked through the opening on my stroller he was just sitting there, quiet and angry. I knew babies could get mad, but no one ever told me they could glare!
Later, my husband and I went to the store. Flynn was, of course, all smiles and giggles with Dad. Mom was the bad guy this day and he glared at me while we were in the store. When we got home he was still mad. I'm sure his father is the one who taught him to hold a grudge. It couldn't possibly be me.
After about three or four hours of being mad, it was bedtime and Flynn decided to change things up. His new strategy was to ignore me, excluding the times when he needed to be fed of course. My husband put him to bed and I told myself that tomorrow would be a new day.
Tomorrow finally came, bright and early. When Flynn woke up, I went in his room as usual and picked him up out of his crib. Like most mornings, he was happy as could be. After picking him up I realized that he stank to high heaven so I put him down to change his diaper. That's when he threw the biggest fit I had ever seen, complete with back arching, wails and screams. Somehow, I wrestled off his pajamas and put a fresh diaper on him without injuring either of us or making a horrible poop mess.
We have this battle every time he teethes or has a growth spurt. Each time, it's worse since he's bigger, stronger and most of all, smarter. What's ironic is that the crying doesn't bother me that much. Rather, it's when he's calm and quiet that I know I'd better watch my step. I can just see the baby hamster wheels in his head working overtime. All I can do is hope that my mama hamsters can keep up!
Gabby Allen is married with one child. Read her Fridays on Douglas County Moms.
What\'s ironic is that the crying doesn\'t bother me that much. Rather, it\'s when he\'s calm and quiet that I know I\'d better watch my step.