Love Hotel

I've been here the whole time!

A bad moment for me today... Nothing unusual was happening. No wierdness, no difficulty. Nothing much a'tall. I woke up with the baby as usual and she played and smiled and did all the new cute things she does. And we're having a grand ole time and then she does something that she has in fact done before. She starts to cry. And the manner in which she starts to cry is also something I've seen before. It's almost like someone stabbed her or burned her or something. She's playing and smiling and then "Aaaauuuuggghhh!Waaah!" So she's crying and shrieking and I check for obvious signs of assault. Nothing. So we try nursing. Nope. Ok. Bouncing. Nope. Again we're not in unfamiliar territory here. Walking around the house. Still she is inconsolable. So I take her on a walk. I walk with her facing out which is new and a little scary for me. They say you can't face them out in those belly packs until they can sit up. But she's already started to protest about being faced in. Booooring. So I face her out and start walking. Down to the cafe. Here we go. She is pretty quiet until we're about a block away from the cafe.
Now I'll interject here with a little bit of "Fucking fuck fuck shit and fuck". Because I feel like I've been spoiled by her up until a coupla days ago. She and I and Dad were having a pretty good time of it. Sleeping and nursing and eating and playing and all. And then we went to the Reunion for our Childbirth Class. Hooray!
I really wanted to go. And here's where I suck as a person. As a human fucking being.
I wanted to go because...Becaauuuuse, I hated them. I hated them all so much. They were all having a grand ole time being pregnant, and I was soooo not. And I wanted to show them. SHOW them my beautiful baby. Say HAH! to them. Listen to their labor stories and look at their babies and say HAH! We got this cute and precious baby and Nuts to you! Nuts! She plays and talks and smiles and even stands! She loves looking at new people and blows spit bubbles!
Long Story Short. She cries almost the whole time we're there. Unless she's in the presence of Paul the Baby. Paul the Baby was born three days before her and was an ounce lighter than she. He now of course is almost a pound heavier than she and is super mellow. He simply can't be bothered. To coo to cry to sit to do anything except be mellow and beautiful. Oh did I mention He Is Beautiful. And his dad barely speaks english and is nice and super friendly and his wife is nice and super friendly. And boy do they love that baby. Betty was simply and perfectly not into it. She cried and was fed. She cried and she was changed. She cried and she got to suck on Dad's fingers and she cried and fussed and cried and fussed and wanted nowt to do with anyone. She didn't babble or razz or stand or sit or play. So once the final group picture was snapped, we went our way. We stopped by Safeway to get a can of Formula and she was totally thrilled. She stopped all that wacky crying fussing crap and lit up like a goddam lighting up thing.
What I took from this is a very clear statement of fact. In the words of Jon Stewart, "No, no. I am not your monkey."
Anyway, back to today. We get to the cafe and she starts really yelling her head off. And the whole way home. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is helping this baby. Soothing this baby. For the first time with all her crying and fussing for hours and hours and hours, I felt bad. Like really bad. Like I was failing and sucking. And I was angry and frustrated. I wanted to just lay face down on the floor and give the fuck up. I'm beginning to understand certain types of crazy people. The ones that just repeat things like "I've been here the whole time! You don't know. You don't. No one knows."
Someone left them with the baby for too long.