Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Our Most Shameful Secret, Revealed
This weekend, we had a birthday party for my mom. I put Mae in this extra-ridiculous Italian princess party dress for the occasion. You maybe know the kind: 100 % polyester and totally covered in bows. Somebody gave it to us as a gift. It's hiddeous but, when I was a kid, I loved things like that. And really, it's not a party if you're not in a party dress, right?
So, I brought Mae down, all done up like a twinkly-pink sweetheart princess, and she proceeded to be horrible. Whiny. Drooly. Cranky. Irritable. Fussy. Carrying on. Screaming uncontrollably. Real tears running down her face and everything. She kept it up for nearly an hour until we finally just had to put her to bed.
But that's not the shameful part. This is: she has never done that before. Not once. At least, not like that.
When I talk with other moms with young babies, I nod knowingly while they complain about sleep deprevation. I pretend to understand totally. I have to. Otherwise they would think I was a very mean, braggy, hostile person.
But the truth is, Mae sleeps through most nights. And, sometimes, after she gets up to eat at 6:00, she falls back asleep until 10 or later. She has also slept peacefully through (among other things): a live, very loud samba band; countless restaurant meals; several fire engines; the smoke detector in our house going off twice; and me, dropping the entire pot set on the kitchen floor.
And if they talk about how much their babies cry, I nod again. But, truthfully, Mae hardly ever cries for mysterious reason. At least, not for more than a few minutes. She's mostly happy to play alone on her mat. She drifts off to sleep in the crib without a fuss. She doesn't really mind the bath. Or the car. Or being passed around when visitors come.
I swear though, this is not me bragging. I can't even start to pretend to have anything to do with her even temperement. We just completely lucked out. She was born easy-going. It's entirely possible we won't be so lucky next time around (if there's a next time around).
The other night, when she carried on for an hour, I was ready to snap. To quit. To give her away to the first pack of passing wolves. I don't know how people with collicky or fussy-natured babies do it. Somebody needs to award them medals, and throw them a parade, and offer them free babysitting while they get unlimited Sweedish massages and eat chocolate covered grapes. God knows, it's the least they deserve.
That night, we rocked Mae. We walked with her. We sang to her. I fed her. We changed her. We took her temperature and checked for any early little teeth that might be poking through her gums. Nothing worked. Eventually, after we changed her into her jammies, she just wore herself out and fell asleep. And the next morning, she was herself again.
Our best guess... Our only guess... She must have hated that stupid princess dress. And really, who could blame her? Next time we have a party, she'll just wear stretch pants and a T-shirt.
So, I brought Mae down, all done up like a twinkly-pink sweetheart princess, and she proceeded to be horrible. Whiny. Drooly. Cranky. Irritable. Fussy. Carrying on. Screaming uncontrollably. Real tears running down her face and everything. She kept it up for nearly an hour until we finally just had to put her to bed.
But that's not the shameful part. This is: she has never done that before. Not once. At least, not like that.
When I talk with other moms with young babies, I nod knowingly while they complain about sleep deprevation. I pretend to understand totally. I have to. Otherwise they would think I was a very mean, braggy, hostile person.
But the truth is, Mae sleeps through most nights. And, sometimes, after she gets up to eat at 6:00, she falls back asleep until 10 or later. She has also slept peacefully through (among other things): a live, very loud samba band; countless restaurant meals; several fire engines; the smoke detector in our house going off twice; and me, dropping the entire pot set on the kitchen floor.
And if they talk about how much their babies cry, I nod again. But, truthfully, Mae hardly ever cries for mysterious reason. At least, not for more than a few minutes. She's mostly happy to play alone on her mat. She drifts off to sleep in the crib without a fuss. She doesn't really mind the bath. Or the car. Or being passed around when visitors come.
I swear though, this is not me bragging. I can't even start to pretend to have anything to do with her even temperement. We just completely lucked out. She was born easy-going. It's entirely possible we won't be so lucky next time around (if there's a next time around).
The other night, when she carried on for an hour, I was ready to snap. To quit. To give her away to the first pack of passing wolves. I don't know how people with collicky or fussy-natured babies do it. Somebody needs to award them medals, and throw them a parade, and offer them free babysitting while they get unlimited Sweedish massages and eat chocolate covered grapes. God knows, it's the least they deserve.
That night, we rocked Mae. We walked with her. We sang to her. I fed her. We changed her. We took her temperature and checked for any early little teeth that might be poking through her gums. Nothing worked. Eventually, after we changed her into her jammies, she just wore herself out and fell asleep. And the next morning, she was herself again.
Our best guess... Our only guess... She must have hated that stupid princess dress. And really, who could blame her? Next time we have a party, she'll just wear stretch pants and a T-shirt.
