All over but for the shouting. The shouting!

30 Jan

The baby just went to sleep, after shouting in my face for 45 minutes straight. I mean, what is with these kids? They go from content to frantic in just a hot second. Hungry? No, he’s been fed. Diaper changed. I’d been more or less burping him straight solid for 30 minutes, there wasn’t an air bubble to be found in his little system. Not too hot, not too cold, no physical trauma. And so, faced with no reason to cry, he then proceeding to just shout it out.

Seriously, 45 minutes of straight-up screaming baby (sadly, I’m being conservative here – it was more like a solid hour). At some point the ugly thoughts enter into it, which surprised me a little. What if I tape his mouth shut? Am I allowed to try to reach into his open mouth and grab his tongue with my fingers? If I just leave him there, what do you think the maximum amount of time is, that a 7 week old could keep up at full throttle?

My ulcer is that much closer, and I could feel my hair actually turning gray. Laughably, I had sent my wife to sleep already; she melted down about an hour earlier, over the stress of finding day care, an inability to sooth, the endless maw of hunger that is our baby’s current feeding pattern. The return of thrush. Luckily, I’m a lovely man. As the voice of reason, I sent mama to bed, and mostly stayed calm in the face of red-faced tonsil boy. Yep, necessity for women is magically transformed into above-and-beyond heroism for dear old dad.

So, yeah, things are happening chez nous. And the insane thing is that this was a really great weekend! We had friends come in from Boston, and they stayed in our apartment with their two kids (a-dooooor-able, 3 and 5). We decamped for Mother-in-Law’s sublet – another story, another time. So kinwork was wildly successfully accomplished. But apparently the fallout was a temporarily frantic baby and frantic mama.

Our daycare solution is still not forthcoming, though, and we’re on a clock. Baby mama returns to work in March. Something’s got to give. We’ve had a couple of interviews with potential caregivers actually end up being no-shows, which is encouraging, and some of the more promising possibilities seem at the moment to have dried up some. Something will work out, I hope.

And in the meantime, with some casualties of the weekend, it nevertheless proved that we can indeed be flexible in the face of domestic zaniness. Plus I got to throw a 5-year-old girl in the snow. And you can’t argue with that.

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2 Responses to “All over but for the shouting. The shouting!”

  1. Ivy February 1, 2011 at 12:01 pm #

    Perhaps your son doesn’t like the way you look at him.

  2. Peter February 1, 2011 at 12:55 pm #

    Well, the combination of new oochiness, more sporadic eating, has spurred #1 wife to make an appointment at the pediatrician. So we’re moving towards a cat 2 event.

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