Tantrums Can Swing Both Ways

Baby Gray had a meltdown yesterday. A big one. We're talking a solid hour of uninterrupted, inconsolable crying. It was awful. And to make matters worse, Eli was at school, so it was just me and the screaming lady. Okay, we both did a fair amount of screaming. In the end, well... Let's just say, it's good the lady can't talk yet, otherwise I'd probably be in trouble.

Things change when you're alone with a baby, when it's YOUR baby. A lot of people don't seem to get that. Most of the time the feeling is empowering. The two of you share a bond that is literally unbreakable. You can anticipate her whims (nonverbally!), supplying everything she could ever need or want. Kissing boo-boos and snuggling away scary moments. Her ENTIRE LIFE is in the palm of your hand, and you are her unswaying, ever-powerful Provider. Best of all, nothing anyone says, positive or negative, impacts this relationship one bit. You are a Unit, fuck everybody else.

Until she turns on you... Until the screams begin...

And we're not talking about the simple pout of a bruised forehead, or an everyday "where's-my-bottle" wail. No, no. These cries don't belong to a baby. Not YOUR baby. These are more like the wails of a banshee that's somehow hidden inside your baby's belly. So deep she has to take deep, long breaths between outbursts just to make room for all the noise cascading out of her. This isn't pain, this isn't hunger. This baby is having an Existential Crisis.

And like any loving parent, you swoop to the rescue. Bounces and binkies (though we call them "blasters" in our house), hugs and kisses. But she gives you NOTHING. Suddenly there's no give and take, your flawless communication system has very rapidly decayed into... NOTHING. Just more and more screams. In your ear, in your face, muffled against your chest. Screaming screaming screaming screaming screaming.

... twenty minutes go by ...

"We're supposed to be a TEAM!"

"WAAAAAAAHHH!"

"I don't get it, you don't want a blaster, you don't want me to hold you, you don't want me to let you go! WHAT IS IT!?!?!"

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

... and twenty more ...

"I will give you anything, I will tear a hole in the sky and make God Himself come down here and apologize to you if you will just--!"

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT!!!!!!"

... and then ...

...

Okay, this is where it gets really bad. At least, it did for me. My temper BROKE.

Don't worry, no physical harm came to my baby. This is not that kind of story. But I did end up plopping her in her crib for about 7 minutes while I cooled off in the kitchen. And I shouted some pretty mean things to and at her. Things I shouldn't have said and I feel terrible for saying...

But it happened. These things happen. And, as painful as it was, it was and is a very real part of living with small children. And I don't just mean inconsolable babies, I mean inconsolable parents too. Like I said, things are different when you're alone with your baby. First off: Not only is there no one around to help, there's also no one to VENT to. Personally, I find all shitty things are easier when I can joke about how shitty they are with someone. But second, and this is a big one: Nobody else is looking. Hell, you're the only one who WOULD be looking. There's nobody there telling you what you're doing is right or wrong, bad or good parenting. It's just you and YOUR baby... There are no rules.

And so, inevitably, you're going to make some pretty awful decisions. You'll say and do some terrible, despicable things. And, worst of all, you'll KNOW IT.

But here's the thing they don't tell you: These moments, the ones where you break, when things go bad... They don't make you a Bad Parent, they make you a Parent. Family isn't about being perfect together, always making the right moves and never letting each other down. Good times don't happen without bad ones, that's called physics. Parenting isn't a job or a hobby. It's not something you can prepare for, or think your better at than other people, not really. It's just another way of getting through life. And ask ANY baby, life can suck some serious ass sometimes.