Hug your babies

This morning my son woke up extra early. I gave him a bottle and some toys and left him in the crib so that I could shower. After I got out of the shower, he started to scream.

I took him out of the crib, sang to him and changed his diaper, put on fresh clothes and tried to read him a book. All the while he kicked and thrashed. He screamed at me and banged his head against the floor. (He's into doing that now and I hate it.) When I held him, he fought me. When I put him down, he crawled into my lap and laid there. If I sang "Popcorn Popping," he laughed. When I tried to hand him something we could play with, he screamed and threw it. This all happened in his room.

I figured maybe he wanted to play with his other toys, so I opened the door and tried to get him to walk out to the living room. He's been carried his whole life and has grown somewhat accustomed to it. When I try to get him to walk first thing in the morning or right after a nap, he screams and goes limp so that I'm basically carrying him by the arms.

By this point, my fuse had been lit.

"Fine," I told him, leaving him in a bawling heap in the hall. "You may sit there and throw a fit. When you are finished, come find mommy and we'll play."

I went and started scrubbing dishes. My boy came into the kitchen and started pushing me away from the sink and the counter. He stuck himself between me and the cupboard and pushed. I got the point and dried my hands. I picked him up and carried him to the living room where I tried to sit down and read books.

He screamed.

And so it went for another hour. He didn't want left alone. He didn't want held. He didn't want me to put him down. He didn't want food or his water.  He would laugh and be cute, but then if he thought I was looking at him funny or maybe not looking at him enough, he'd scream and kick and thrash.

I tried to put him down for a nap after he'd been up for 2 hours, but he screamed for 20 minutes and cried himself into hysterics. I picked him up and we started the whole thing all over again.

I told my husband I think someone took our baby in the night and left us with this screaming monster.

He then told me the tragedy of a little girl, three years old, who was run over by a truck yesterday afternoon. She died early this morning.

My baby's behavior did not change, but mine did. I was more patient with him. I held him and let him cry for a while until finally he was just flopped across my legs letting me scratch his back. I gave him Tylenol (he's cutting molars) and put him down for a nap again. Even though he's asleep, I'm having a hard time not going in there and pulling him out of his crib so I can snuggle him close. Because somewhere there is a mother who won't get that chance.

I'm sorry I took my baby for granted this morning. And my heart aches for your loss. I've shed a few tears for you, and I've said some prayers for you. I hope that you'll find peace. Soon.