Tuesday had other plans...

so tired, december 07

Isabella....
You really put me through the paces yesterday! WOW.
Our day started out much like all the others do. In between morning sleeps and yawns in our bed...you flashed me that happy grin that makes my heart skip a beat every time. You enjoyed your breakfast and kicked away on the changing table. You seemed perfectly delightful despite it being the kind of day that is so dreary the house remains evening dark throughout the afternoon. As much as I hated to do it, I loaded you into the car and ran an errand or two. On the way home I was on the phone telling your aunt Libby how good you were(in my best braggy-mom voice). Even as I was saying the words, I felt a little like I shouldn't jinx your good behavior...but I went ahead and kept right on bragging about how good you are. I think I even used the word "predictable," saying that we are able to make plans ahead of time now and know that you will be just fine no matter where we take you. Shame on me. I had no idea what you had planned for the hours to come. Your dad had a business dinner so it was just the two of us. We got home and the party started. You were mad when I took you out of the car...but I chalked it up to hunger. I put you in your bouncy seat long enough to bring the groceries in and let the dogs out. You became even more upset. I was singing and talking to you as I put a few freezer items away and began to let the dogs in. You hated my singing (which isn't entirely your fault, most people would probably agree with you on that one). I let Abby in and was aggrivated to find that she was very muddy. I grabbed a clean towel and wiped off every single muddy paw...all the while singing "If you're happy and you know it clap your hands" at the top of my lungs. At this point my patience began to wear thin. You see, you have been so very good...only maybe two big meltdowns in your life, that my patience had been sitting around gathering dust. I hadn't really had to use my patience much at all since, say about 3 weeks old when I made the devastating choice to eat McDonald's and then breastfeed you and you cried for 15 hours because your tummy was very gassy...and I swore to your dad that I would never even so much as LOOK at another McDonald's for the rest of my life. We were both forced to muster up all of our patience that night! Anyway, back to the present. You were sitting in your bouncy seat...red-faced and screaming. I knew you were hungry(not starving, mind you...you were merely 20 minutes past you regular feeding time) and I was hurrying as fast as I could. I'm sorry to admit it but I abruptly cut "If you're happy and you know it" short and began semi-lecturing you (in a very sweet voice) about how there were other things that had to be taken care of around here and that you would just have to hold your horses. You hated my lecture and cried even harder. I can understand...I felt the same way about my mom's lectures...but still...
Abby's paws were clean and I quickly washed my hands to come and get you. I happened to glance out the back door at Pepper who was nearly getting blown off the deck by the driving rain and wind. I put your pacifier in your mouth and kissed you and went to let Pepper in. You are still screaming and American Idol has now come on and is way too loud. I am not surprised to find that Pepper is far more muddy than Abby was. I send him back outside and do a fake throwing motion to get him to run out into the grass in the hopes that some of the mud will come off. I fill two large bowls with water and get more towels and start in on a VERY loud version of "Jesus Loves Me" for your listening pleasure. You continue to scream and the idiot who waited in line for 56 hours to make a fool of himself on national television belts out the lyrics to an old AC/DC number. Pepper adds to the fun by trying to escape while I am cleaning him off. His paws and entire underbelly are covered in mud flecks and his back is soaked from the rain. I am "up to here" (as my mom used to say) with frustration. I finally get him cleaned off and wash my hands again. I pick you up to feed you and still, you do not calm down. You are crying and crying even though the food is right at your lips. I am talking to you, promising not to sing if you'll promise to eat. I turn off the TV, shoving the power button, much harder than necessary, into the remote. Deep breaths...
I remember your dad telling me a few days ago that you are just like me in that once your feelings are hurt...you continue to cry---just because---even know the problem is fixed, or the apology has been sincerely issued. I am not able to turn off my tears quickly and apparently, you aren't either. And apparently, I had obviously hurt your feelings bigtime!
Just when I thought I couldn't take anymore, the lights flickered. The wind was howling outside and the house was rattling. As a small gift to me, you calmed down long enough to eat just a little. "YES! Keep eating...see....now you're all better," I said. You hated my talking and began to scream again. Then I had the thought that you might need your diaper changed and that I should definitely take care of that lest I wanted to change you pioneer-style by the light of a Yankee candle if the electricity decided to go completely out. On the changing table you quickly spit up what little you had just eaten. I stopped singing and talking.... and started crying with you. Then I was mad at your dad for having a meeting. How rude of him to do this to me! I changed you and put on a new, clean sleeper. I picked you up and hugged you. You continued to cry and then I started wondering (read:obsessing) if there was something seriously wrong with you. Afterall, I had never seen you cry for such an extended period of time (with the exception of the McDonald's night.) You cried intermittently all through your feeding. I tried to burp you and you insisted on bobbing your little head around all stiff bodied. At one point, you bobbed your head into my lips and I had to check in the mirror to see if either of us were bleeding. I love that you are holding your head up now, love bug, but I need to keep my front teeth in tact in case I ever decide to go back to work.
I tried to put you in your swing. You love your swing. But, not last night. Hey, how about your kick and play mat....looks fun, right? Tried that. You hated it. "Well, I'm starving, Ella," I say to you as if you care. "I need to pee! I need to eat! I need to be able to put you down for ONE MINUTE!!!" How about a little tummy time on the ottoman like daddy does? You buried your head in the blanket and refused to turn to the side so you could breathe. I tried the bouncy seat again...even turned on the fancy vibrating feature. More crying, on both of our parts.
I listened to you cry as I fixed myself a stiff drink, I mean a quick sandwhich and then held you and ate and got a crick in my neck from holding the phone with my shoulder all at the same time. You were happy though. Perfectly content to watch me eat and chat on the phone.....so quiet I might have forgotten you were there if it weren't for you grabbing the sensitive baby hairs around my neck and locking them into your little fists. But by this time see, MY feelings were hurt and I still felt like crying. I looked at the clock and saw that 4 long hours had passed since the circus had started. I was exhausted. The phone rang and it was your dad calling to say he was on his way home. "Good!" I said....and I kept my other thoughts to myself. I put you in your seat while I put my dishes away and changed into my pajamas. I expected more crying but was relieved to find you happily sucking on your paci when I came to get you. I carried you over and we both stretched out on the couch. Your eyes got heavy in an instant and soon you were fast asleep, paci hanging out of the side of your mouth like a cuban cigar. "I bet you are tired," I whispered. "I know I am."
Looking at you from the side I noticed, as I have so many times before, that your little profile is still exactly the same as it was at our 20 week ultrasound. The same curl of your nose, the same bottom lip sucked inward. I traced the outline of your face and listened as your chest rose and fell. I picked up your feather-soft hand and compared your fingers to mine and I thought to myself....
it's a good thing I think you are so darn cute.