Life Family and the Pursuit of Sanity

or… adventures in infertility and babies and family drama!

Grace Under Fire October 13, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — arminta @ 2:44 am

Turns out that I can only take so much crying afterall.

Let me preface this post by saying on the average day, the normal everyday kind of day, my baby does not cry much at all. And by not much at all I mean 30 minutes is a big crying day. He may fuss a little and he may grunt a bit, but he rarely cries and almost never screams (save when I wipe the goop from his eyes, or attempt to get boogies from his nose with the bulb syringe). He is that mythical good baby.

** Finding and knocking on wood **

Usually… except in the car. You know, the tried and true for getting babies to sleep. Yeah, not my baby. My baby HATES the car. Hates it. So, it was with much trepidation that I agreed to go to a Renaissance Festival with my aunt Saturday. I love the RenFest (I’m a geek like that) and a band that I like was playing there (Albannach, real celtic music, bagpipes and all) and she was offering me a free ticket. So… I said let’s go. Then she suggested we bring the C’s. That’s where I got really nervous about the day. The C’s can be very good and very sweet. They can also be little fighting whirling dervishes that scream for MORE, MORE, MORE. I’m sure I will get more confident with taking the kids all out together, but I was nervous for my first outing with all three boys to be with my aunt (who, God love her, is a bit out of touch with the kids and to some degree reality) instead of G or my mom or sister or anyone else who they listen to and spend time with on the regular.

But, I did agree to taking all three boys, and riding in her tiny car. Because 1) I really wanted to go and 2) it would really make her happy. I nervously embarked on the journey knowing it would either go really well, or really, really badly.

For the most part it went really well! Baby G did fuss on the way down, but Big C was a champ and fed him a bottle in his car seat. Big C really was VERY good and VERY helpful on the way down and while we were at the festival. I got to see Albannach, my uncle got me a free hard cider, Big C got to play his “throwing sharp things” games and Little C had fun “throwing tomatoes at a man.” I think the boys like to throw things! I was even able to easily and comfortably nurse Baby G while waiting for Big C to get his face painted. It was a pretty good day.

We also experienced many Baby G firsts:

  • Camel
  • Concert
  • Stroller ride

Then we got in the car to come home. And all hell broke loose. We hit traffic, the baby screamed (and I mean SCREAMED) the entire hour long ride home. The entire hour long ride home. It was hell. I tried to give him a mommy milk bottle, and a formula bottle. I patted. I sang. I ignored. I patted and sang at the same time. All to no avail. The screaming continued. I kept my cool, though. We had to get home eventually and everything would be ok, then.

Or, not.


Or, I could get home and be completely unable to find my keys. Fuck!


That’s OK, I’d just send Big C in through a window! Either he’ll find my keys or he’ll open a door either way we’re OK.


Or, not.


No, instead my keys were still MIA and the dead bolts were locked on both doors and Big C came back to the window screaming “Chucky’s in here.” We know of course that a fictional doll was not in my house. But at this point we have two screaming boys, no keys and no way to call G.


This would be the point where I lost my shit. I shouted at my aunt. Told Big C to “man up.” Told my aunt that her suggestion to stop and pray was perhaps the least practical thing she could have possibly said at this particular juncture. Then I asked my 6 week old baby why he would not shut up. In short, I behaved like a completely irrational crazy person. I am still embarrassed by my behavior.


Also… my keys were in the bottom of my bag, I had them all along.


My point? Fear is powerful. I have handled that same situation with aplomb before. When it was just me locked out, no problem. But factor in my already stressed infant son, who I now can’t help x2? Scariest feeling ever. That shit was real.




Follow up: I apologized like crazy to all involved, ESPECIALLY Big C. I also let the boys spank me for shouting and cursing. Once we got in Baby G went to town on a booby and we all got snacks and water and everyone lived happily ever after.


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