I'll be writing this post in second person. Adjust your eyes accordingly.
Lily, you were a monumental handful of crabbiness today. From the very moment I picked you up at daycare, you were un-winnable. During the walk to the car, the ride home, walking inside, heading out into the backyard, you wallpapered every moment with unceasing cries. You were so worked up; I asked why, but you just couldn't muster the words, which was no surprise. The tears came fast, and you cried so hard you choked a few times.
I sang myself hoarse. I danced a jig while you ate. I let you pick some flowers from the garden. These all managed to sooth you, but for only the most fleeting of moments.
I have to be honest, I'm not a fan of the lie down move you use when at the apex of unbearability. You do this most frequently when we try to coax you in a certain direction, and you won't budge, and we grab you by the hand, and then it's over. You melt to the ground, where you proclaim your displeasure to the nearest 9 square blocks. This move does not endear yourself to me, though a small part of me wonders if I'm not just jealous, wishing I could collapse to the floor when things aren't going my way at work. Maybe I'll try that the next time I become exhausted and sickened by the sight of the DC9.
Despite all this, when I first saw that picture above, I choked on a laugh and felt the sharp suspicion that the whole day was in fact my fault. Surely I just didn't understand you. I'll try better tomorrow.
As for you, Abs, I have no specific comment on the day. You were charmingly fantastic one moment, suddenly crabby the next; this is how you operate on a normal day. I do apologize for hitting your head when I was trying to take your pants off. It didn't top the head-hit-o-meter scale, but just in case you remember it in 10 or 20 years, I'm sorry. And for future reference, please don't fight me when I take you out of your high chair and remove your pants; I want to give you the avocado ASAP, too, but that dastardly vegetable stains clothes like a champ, so the pants had to go.
As long as I'm talking directly to you, let me also say this: relax. I know you want the nilla wafer/milk/sippy cup/mac and cheese/peas/yogurt/whatever, but I'm not (impressive though I might be in your eyes) a wizard; I cannot make it appear magically in zero seconds. I have to go to the kitchen to fetch it at the least, and at worst actually do a bit of prep. Relax. It's coming. Use the time to practice pronouncing "bee-bo".
Day two hundred and seven.
Guinness is being one patient cat! The first time I met him he gave me love bites, then bit one of the munchkins, causing tears. I'm very impressed he acted as a cat pillow for Abby!
ReplyDeleteI used to do similar to my dog... I would use her as a pillow while eating an after-school snack. She was remarkably tolerant, probably because she was hoping that I would drop something for her.