Baby boy has been so fussy. He is teething (although he doesn’t seem to be teething while I’m holding him). When he cries his loud bellowing cry, I want to hide in my pantry, get in the fetal position, and sing old soothing hymns.
The two big kids are just as frustrated, but they handle it a little differently. Earlier today, I walked out of the living room to get some water. Of course, when I walked away baby boy started screaming. I got my water and returned to the living room to find a blanket over his head. Bubba said it was too loud, and he thought the blanket would help. I gave him a mini lesson on suffocation and calmed the baby.
A short while later, baby boy started “teething” again. Cry, cry, cry… You get the idea. Sister tried her best to help, which any mother of young children can tell you is quite annoying. I was trying to get this screaming, back bending, wild animal of a baby to stop yelling at me all while listening to a four year old, inches from my face, repeating, “It’s ok, sissy is here,” over and over. Seriously, the desire to run to my pantry was getting stronger and stronger.
I took a deep breath and said, “Hey, why don’t you go color.”
Sissy said, “Hey, why did you pick that one?”
“Wait… What? What do you mean?”
“Why did you pick that baby?”
“Are you serious? I didn’t get to pick.” (Ok, I know all this sounds horrible, but y’all don’t understand just how awful his cry can be!)
“You did pick. Remember, you looked on your iPad and said we wanted that one.”
“No, I picked his name! I didn’t choose a particular baby!” (I feel it’s important to make it clear that I love baby boy more than the air I breathe! I would have absolutely chosen him if I could! I might would have requested a somewhat quieter version of the same baby. Stop, I feel you judging me! It’s a bad cry!)
Sissy huffed, put her hands on her hips, and whined, “But mama, I wanted a girl baby.”