Friday, May 20, 2011

This has been a post






There's a reason I don't post a lot of pictures of Evelyn crying, or write about her little baby meltdowns on here.  The reason is that crying babies are grossly unpleasant and kind of pitiful.  Did you know babies this young can shed tears?  She's been doing it for a little over a month now.  It makes you (me) want to die a little.  So I leave it out.  We've all been around unhappy babies before, and no one ever likes it.  Especially the babies.

But it's nearly the end of the day and I feel like I have to post something, so I'll tell you about our unhappy adventure today.

We had a great day, actually.  I'll tell you all about that in another post.  We had a few driving adventures, and she fussed a little in the car.  That's no big deal, because she's not the happiest traveler.  For the most part, though, she slept or smiled at the elephant that hangs on her car seat (she can hit with her hand now!  It's a blast!).  But on our way home from my parents' house, she started to fuss.  Like, a half-mile from their house.  I thought things would get better once we left the dirt road.

No.

I thought things would get better if I changed the CD.

No.

I thought things would get better after 10 minutes of some horrifically twangy country music (her favorite kind).

No.

I pulled into a gas station to check her diaper, car seat positioning, blood pressure, etc.  She should be fine.

I got back on the road and she was not fine.  I repeatedly said, "Evelyn, baby, you are fine."  She assured me she was not by crying even harder, so we pulled over and I nursed her in a church parking lot for 10 minutes.  She calmed down.

I got back on the road again.

She was not fine.

We got on the interstate.

Oh. My. Goodness.

The screaming was awful.

Then the screaming stopped.

Then I pulled off at the nearest exit, cut off some car at a stoplight, and practically Dukes of Hazarded it into the parking lot of Arthur's Beauty College.  I leaned my seat back and crawled into the backseat to see that my child was not dead, and had just gotten tired of screaming and was drooling everywhere (did I tell you she drools now?  It's weird, like she's a toddler.  So advanced!) and looking despondent about her life and her horrible mother.

Then she started screaming again.

I changed her diaper.

She cried and screamed.

I bounced her around the parking lot.

She cried and screamed.

I walked around.

She fussed a little.

If I kept her on my chest, she was fine.

I looked at the interstate.

I looked at her car seat.

I walked into Arthur's Beauty College fully prepared to pay some student $100 to shave my head if it meant I could hold Evelyn until she fell asleep because there was no way I was putting that child back into her car seat while she was conscious. 

They still had the 'OPEN' sign turned on, but they'd actually closed 5 minutes earlier.  The instructor said I could stay there until Evelyn calmed down. 

So I did.

For 40 minutes, I walked around Arthur's Beauty College while students finished up with their last few clients, put away their tools, and swept hair.  One woman showed me pictures of her three-month-old daughter on her phone.  A couple of people asked me how old Evelyn was.  One woman volunteered to hold her, but I didn't think throwing a new person would help her trauma any. 

For 40 minutes, I walked through mirrors and hairstyling mannequin heads as I bounced my baby and whispered into her head.

I had to call Mom to let her know why she hadn't gotten a "I'm home" text from me.  Then Cody called just to see if Evelyn and I had had a good day and if we were home yet, and I had to explain why I was in a beauty college in Jacksonville.

For 20 minutes, Evelyn fussed and cried and spit up all over both of us while strangers smiled at me and told me she was beautiful and had wonderful hair.  For another 20 minutes, I kept walking with her limp body flopping over sideways (her favorite sleeping position while being held), just to be sure she stayed asleep.

For the record, I was wearing a dress that takes this baby-having body and makes it look even plumper than it is.

The Ms. Frumpy McFrump dress.  Maybe the dress isn't that frumpy.  Maybe it's the wearer. No, it's the dress.  Humor me.
 And my hair looked......like I was the mother of a small, upset baby.

Did I mention that Evelyn was so sweaty when we stopped that I pulled her cute, little dress off of her and didn't snap her onesie closed after I changed her diaper so her clothing was up around her belly and she was showing her diaper? 

And her socks were falling off of her angry feet?

And yet the people smiled at her and said "Look at those beautiful blue eyes!" and "Look at all that hair!" and didn't seem all that fazed by some random woman fresh off the interstate walking her sad baby through their school/workplace after closing.

And we recovered from the meltdown, just like all the others.  And she slept nearly all the way home.  And she nursed and enjoyed her bath and played until an hour after her bedtime. 

And now it's midnight and the evening is officially behind me. Evelyn's been asleep for an hour or so and Friday will be better.

We probably won't be driving anywhere, though.

1 comment:

Laine said...

This is sad. I will come to LR to see y'all this weekend, just so you can stay home for a while. Poor Evelyn. Poor you!