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Little man is asleep. Can you tell?
He's finally big enough to fit in his swing safely. Hallelujah. Out like a light. (Oh, it won't keep him from fussing because he's genuinely uncomfortable or hungry. But as long as I'm often within sight--which I am, I'm not going to leave him unattended in the thing--it does put an end to all fussing because he's overtired or lonely or bored.)
Which means I got an actual workout. I could probably have gotten a fuss-free shower, too, if I'd been willing to leave him in the swing, but I wasn't comfortable leaving him in a moving machine in another room while I couldn't hear him. Instead, he ended up in his stroller outside the bathroom door, wailing for half the shower because his diaper was wet, but mostly because he was lonely.
It turns out you really can tell the different cries. There's one for "I'm wet", which is bright-red-tiny-ball-of-rage. There's one for "I'm hungry", which is the saddest, saddest little baby in the whole wide world. There's one sort of between for "Why did you abandon me, I'm so alone and abandoned." And then there's an assortment of "I'm uncomfortable" noises that are completely baffling. (What, child, what? Are your feet cold? Is your tummy upset? Do you have existential angst?)
I think the best example was at his last shot. I could very distinctly hear what he was trying to say. "I'm hungry. I'm hungry. I'm hungry. Why aren't you listening, I told you I'm hungry. I'm hungry! I'm hungry! OWWW! What the...huh...I'm hungry. I'm hungry. I'm hungry." He cared way more about the fact that he was hungry than he did about the needle. Oh, he was outraged for a second and then confused. And then he remembered the important thing, which was that he was hungry.
He's finally big enough to fit in his swing safely. Hallelujah. Out like a light. (Oh, it won't keep him from fussing because he's genuinely uncomfortable or hungry. But as long as I'm often within sight--which I am, I'm not going to leave him unattended in the thing--it does put an end to all fussing because he's overtired or lonely or bored.)
Which means I got an actual workout. I could probably have gotten a fuss-free shower, too, if I'd been willing to leave him in the swing, but I wasn't comfortable leaving him in a moving machine in another room while I couldn't hear him. Instead, he ended up in his stroller outside the bathroom door, wailing for half the shower because his diaper was wet, but mostly because he was lonely.
It turns out you really can tell the different cries. There's one for "I'm wet", which is bright-red-tiny-ball-of-rage. There's one for "I'm hungry", which is the saddest, saddest little baby in the whole wide world. There's one sort of between for "Why did you abandon me, I'm so alone and abandoned." And then there's an assortment of "I'm uncomfortable" noises that are completely baffling. (What, child, what? Are your feet cold? Is your tummy upset? Do you have existential angst?)
I think the best example was at his last shot. I could very distinctly hear what he was trying to say. "I'm hungry. I'm hungry. I'm hungry. Why aren't you listening, I told you I'm hungry. I'm hungry! I'm hungry! OWWW! What the...huh...I'm hungry. I'm hungry. I'm hungry." He cared way more about the fact that he was hungry than he did about the needle. Oh, he was outraged for a second and then confused. And then he remembered the important thing, which was that he was hungry.
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Date: 2013-03-20 12:09 am (UTC)From:no subject
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