Tantrums are Underrated

I had a tantrum today. It felt bad and good, which I guess is how tantrums are supposed to feel.

My son, Jericho, now almost 1, has tantrums, especially when he's tired. They are little rages that things are just not going his way.

That's what I did, too.

He's tired. I'm tired. We haven't successfully extracted him yet from our bed. My shoulder and neck kill me every night, from carrying him around. I don't sleep well. It sucks when I just drift off to sleep after hours of tossing and turning only to be woken by Jericho wanting to nurse ... again!

Yes, we have let him cry it out many times, but he's like a little mouse who does not want to leave the warm snugness of his parents' bed. He always finds a way to crawl back in.

Anyway, I'm tired and cranky. Today, I had just come inside after walking to the corner cafe to get decaf coffee (I gave up caffeine because I thought it was keeping Jericho awake -- another liability in my morning mood.). I had the dog with me but dragging her on the leash while pushing the stroller became cumbersome. So I dropped her leash. Of course, she ran off.

So I came inside sans dog. Did I mention that I was tired and cranky? My husband uncharacteristically had thrown in a load of laundry. Unfortunately, it was a load of towels that I was going to use to cover the couch while I washed the cushion covers. Our couch -- being the favorite haunt of baby and dog -- is not pretty. And my dad is coming for a visit so I am motivated to appear more middle class than we actually are.

So I came inside, tired and cranky, sans dog to find that my husband in his effort to be helpful had actually been unhelpful by washing to towels ahead of their prescribed task.

It was past Jericho's nap time. I nursed him and he fell asleep, but then when I put him down in his crib, he woke up and cried.

That's when I threw a tantrum. Enough! I want some peace! I need some peace.

I put Jericho in his crib, wailing while I read the Style section of the NYT and munched on chocolate. After about 10 minutes I retrieved him, teary eyed and sniffling.

He will not fall to sleep on his own during the day in his crib. We let him cry it out at night and he drifts off. During the day, he needs music.

Bryan came down to rock him to sleep to "Mississippi Half-Step" by the Grateful Dead. While he did that -- successfully I might add -- I went out to the tool shed and moved things around.

I felt better.