Saturday, July 25, 2009

heartbreaking job of staggering proportions

I've always been an excellent crier. I'd consider putting it on my resume if it was somehow considered a good thing to anyone at all besides me and waterproof mascara marketers. Growing up I always got the feeling my Mom didn't really like my cry-baby ways, and thought it was sorta mean of her and boy don't you know I took that to my therapy bank of childhood wrongs. In fact I featured her in a film that I made about this hot topic called "The Girl Who Couldn't Stop Crying".

Or for faster service, here it is:

So I imagine this won't the the last time I say this, but, I kinda get why my Mom was that way.

(space for emphasis!)

Because hearing that boy cry his little guts out makes me want to stab my eyeballs and run into traffic. It's freakin' devastating. Little dude has been on a bit of a crying jag at night, not so much during the warmth of the day where it's mostly cooing, gurgling and general good baby stuff. But when the sunset show starts and we rev up our bath, singing, changing, feeding and book reading routine, he looses it. I mean, whoa. Based on the screeching and wailing you'd think some terrible baby-hating person is hiding near by and shooting him with rubber bands. You laugh, but I check.

My usual PE routine is to hike either in the morning or evening just about daily. And boy-oh-boy don't you know these warm summer evenings are just cracklicious with the lingering light and cooling-down-the-city breezes. Just beeeoyutiful. But seeing as how we're supposed to start our "please baby go to sleep" routine around you know, 6 or 7 it's seriously cutting into my hiking time. Damn baby!

Tonight I went anyway, because I have a bad attitude clearly.

This is a shot from a recent hike, you can see how ridiculously cute the little bean is hiking along in the Moby wrap.

So anyway, the bedtime went late, the crying party started and that's my point I guess. As I was driving home the short distance from the mountain to my house he started up and it quickly escalated from 'huh' to 'what the hell!' to 'what the f is your problem lady!' and was so committed that he produced REAL TEARS. Oh people, really. At 3.5 months old, I really haven't seen this much yet and when I do it's too much for one heart to bear.

To try to appease his hysteria, I pulled over and changed his diaper on my lap. Unfortunately this little party trick is about to be done because he's just too damn big now. So while simultaneously kicking me in the milk machines, and doing a suicidal back bend, he screamed and screamed. Good times. So by then I'm crying hysterically and wishing I still drank alcohol, (ooooh, fun topic, stay tuned!) but instead carefully drove home to get some back-up from the father figure.

Because when he gets into that crying machine, with the punctuations of wails and thrashing, my heart turns inside out. You know how you bend a pomegranate in un-natural positions to get all the sweet little pods out? Like that. So my juicy little heart pods are strewn around my car and house tonight, and I am hard pressed to remember a time in my life that has been so bittersweet.

Btw - just want to give a little shout out to the followers that are now following. Hot damn! That's really cool and makes me feel just a little bit better about my existence. Thanks for slowing down this existential crisis!


  1. God, I feel you on that... When the munchkin starts wailing like that, my heart breaks into a billion pieces. The dad has to take her just so I avoid a complete meltdown.

  2. Hey Staci, thanks for your comment - totally totally. I know that the cry is ultimately designed to do that, but how are we supposed to walk around with all of these heart pieces hanging out?

  3. When my kids start crying like that I usually hand them off to my husband and say I'm going shopping.

    I'm kidding.

    But I do wish I could totally do that sometimes..

  4. The other day I was wondering at how rarely our 4-mo-old daughter cries. Then I realized it's because we have shaped our ENTIRE LIVES around doing everything to keep the crying at bay! Cries in the car? Now I ride in back to keep her entertained. Cries in the bathtub? Wash her once a week. Cries if she lies down? Let her sleep in the carseat.... We are in for so much trouble if we don't get a backbone when she's older. But for now we just can't bear the tears!!!

  5. I hate to say this, but just wait. My two year old REALLY knows how to break my heart...just today, after being told that he had to pick up his toys before he could have a snack, he ran in his room, slammed the door, and yelled "I NOT LIKE YOU MOMMY!"

    Seriously? I thought we'd make it to the teenage years before I had to deal with that nonsense. He's also learned the phrase "You're mean!" which is always fun to hear from someone who you, ya know, created.

    Hang in there mama. Just remember how wonderful he is when he's NOT mad. That's what I do. ;)

  6. I promise, promise, promise it gets better. Well, at least until it gets worse again. :-) My heart broke like that when mine was a new born, but eventually they cry less and smile and laugh a lot more.

    And then they turn into a toddler who cries because she knows it's effective. And even though you know that's why she's crying, you still can't take it. And when you try to discipline her, she'll laugh in your face and you are totally powerless against that too...

    Oh wait, that's me -- your's is a boy ;-)

  7. Oh, I sort of miss those days now that my sons are 5 and 7. OK, not really. But they were awfully cute and pliable back then.

    I found you via Stefanie. I just do what she tells me to do.

    (I'm also at mouthyhousewives)