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April 07, 2011

When babies attack

Attack_peppy
I snuck into my bedroom today, sat in the dark and sent my husband the following text: "Your baby is a spazz."

I know it's not all that maternal a thing to say, but in my own defence it's the truth. Maybe it's teething or some kind of developmental spurt, or maybe a voodoo doctor crept into our house in the middle of the night and cast an 11-month hex on her, but for whatever reason A has morphed into crazy baby and I'm having a hard time adjusting.

For one thing, she yells. All day long, she yells. Not because she has a wet diaper, not because she's hungry. Because she's plain old pissed off, usually at me. She gets into these tiny baby rages because I've dared to, say, close the bathroom door or stop her from attacking the big screen TV or remove the ball of dog hair from her mouth. And it's amazing how loud she yells. If I weren't so concerned about the lasting damage being done to my eardrums I might even be impressed by it.

When a small child who can't even talk yet tries her best to rip you a new one, well, it's off-putting. My heart races, my face flushes, I get sort of dizzy. And then I remember that I'm the boss of her and try to dissuade, distract, tsk tsk, and claw my way back up the family hierarchy.

Every once in a while she gets the better of me, though, and I say, a little too loudly, "Okay! ENOUGH! Chill out already!" And then of course it's big sister to the rescue: "Don't get mad at her, Mom! We don't get mad at babies!"

They're teaming up on me already, these pint-sized dictators. It's time to retreat, have a big glass of wine and rethink my strategy.

April 7, 2011 | Permalink

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Comments

C does that. Been doing it for months. "I don't wanna be in my playpen! I don't wanna go to sleep even though it's late and I'm OBVIOUSLY tired!" Overall we've gotten good at ignoring her, but sometimes on these occasions (except for the nightly bedtime tantrums) she becomes YOUR daughter, you know? Case in point: hubs picks her up and has her home before me. I come in and hear "your daughter is being a right little bastard". And she was, she was actually cranky on top of her regular screeching. Daddy later apologized since he realized that she was bastardy since she's cutting new teeth, but her noise is part of our existence. I am WAY used to it :P It sort of helps me do other stuff - cook, bathe- while listening for her different brands of noise.

Posted by: Pennie | May 5, 2011 9:17:54 AM

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