Little Timmy is fighting his first cold, and it is safe to say that he
is not handling the blow gracefully. Despite trying every Mom trick
I could muster, yesterday I could do nothing to soothe my little guy. He was
cranky from the moment he woke up until he finally fell asleep (after
screaming in my arms for an hour.)
I feel horrible for not being
able to adequately comfort my baby. I also feel guilty for becoming
annoyed with his grumpy demeanor. Logically I know that he is only seven
months old, but I swear at times it felt like he was deliberately being
difficult.
I spent much of yesterday holding him, walking with
him and rocking him. He spent the majority of his day wiping his nose
into my shoulder, spitting his food all over me, and screaming in my ear
while pulling my hair. The exchanges were most definitely unbalanced.
Of course, there is no such thing as reciprocity when it comes to
parenthood.
By the time Scott came home from work I was beyond
frazzled. Unfortunately Timmy didn't want his Daddy, voicing his
displeasure of being handed over by screaming with more gusto. He might
have been feeling yucky, but his cold certainly did nothing to impair
his volume output. For a little baby he can certainly be loud!
Perhaps
sensing the neediness of his baby brother and not wanting to be
overshadowed, Robby was extremely high maintenance last night. I love my
little Koopa dearly, but he definitely tested my patience.
He wasn't ill-behaved, he just required constant attention. I found myself
hiding in the bathroom just so I could have a moment without a snotty
nosed screaming baby and a chatty, seemingly nonsensical eight year
old. I'm definitely not getting mother of the year for yesterday's
maternal showing!
I'm hoping that today is a better day and that
my little guy is feeling better. I miss his gummy little smiles and
squeals of happiness. I'm tired of being used as a giant kleenex and
punching bag. I am fairly certain I am suffering the most with his cold.
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