Friday, November 5, 2010

Baby Theatrics

Robinson is my baby, so it should come as no surprise that he has a flair the dramatic. I just didn't realize it until today.
He awoke this morning absolutely irate. Endless screams. It probably didn't help that I had accidentally turned the volume of the baby monitor down too low and he'd probably been crying for some time. I prepared a bottle before going into his nursery to pick him up. As I greet him, he's on his tummy and looking around and screaming at no one in particular, with the most furious facial expression. It was as if he were crying out, "Oh the humanity! The indignity of it all!" Normally, he cheers up a bit once he realizes I'm there and I pick him up. Not today. Poor Robinson. He's too young to appreciate the irony--of raging against me while wearing pastel terrycloth footie pajamas that say "I [heart] mommy". It's kind of tough to take him seriously when he's dressed that way.

Since Robinson is the product of Steve and me, I know that a surefire way to quiet him down is to present him with food. Works every time. As he's taking his eight ounce bottle of formula--which is pretty much the maximum possible in one sitting for a baby of his age--he stares into my eyes and I watch as one single, solitary tear rolls down his face. Nice touch, Robinson. I feel awful.

He sucks down the bottle, and as soon as he realizes his bottle is empty and I take it away from him, he launches into an epic meltdown with the fury of a thousand babies. We're talking about high pitched screams, squinting eyes, purple face. You'd think I'd just smashed all his toys or something. I hold him closer to me and rock him back and forth to try and comfort him. I feel so sorry for him that he's upset, but I'm the mama, and sometimes I have to make the tough calls. Feeling his full tummy and recognizing that I cannot pour one more milliliter into his gullet is not a tough call. He's just gonna have to be mad. Then, as his screaming reaches a fever pitch, and his face is beet red, he--wait for it--opens one eye to check me out. The little scoundrel! I give him my sassy face like, "Busted, sucka!" That immediately quieted him and he returned to being my happy boy.

One more thing, he's at an age where he loves putting his fingers in his mouth, but now he's trying to put his fingers in my mouth. Anytime I open my mouth to speak, he smiles and grabs my teeth. What do we think? Are we doing this now? Is this ok?

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