Welp, the baby is worse. Clearly I’m jinxing myself by noting any positivity. Baby E. spent most of today screaming like a tortured cat. In actual time, I imagine his to-do list went in this order:
– wake up
– rip away from nipple and scream
– scream while burping/attempted burping
– nurse/eat, again
– rip away from nipple and scream, again
– scream while burping/attempted burping, again
– scream louder
– listen to Mom cry and spell out cuss words
– get passed off to Dad
– fall asleep
– wake up 20 minutes later
REPEAT FOR AS MANY HOURS ARE IN THE DAY
I have no earthly idea what the hell is up with him. If there is something wrong with him other than gas, I wouldn’t know, because he cries the same way all the time. I feel like I get frustrated incredibly easy. Worse — I get frustrated with A., too. He wants me to pass off the baby immediately when I’m upset, but won’t do the same himself when he’s the one who’s been trying to calm the little shrieker down for the past half hour. And then the pup comes and tries to help, because she is a sweet worried thing stressed by our stress, and then she hunkers down in the hall and blends into the carpet and I step on her as I charge into the bedroom for a quick collapse. Basically the whole house is awash with frustration and stress and shitty parenting. And gas, don’t forget that.
So, right. Maybe the next time we have a decent day and I think Baby E. is reaching some glorious calm turning point in his development, I’ll post something blasé, like, “Oh. Not much going on here. Ate some strawberries that were sort of ripe. Hope you all had nice weather. Byeeeeee.” No. More. Jinxes.