Wits end

It’s not even really the actual crying that gets to me. It does sometimes, but mostly I can handle it.

What gets me to my wits end is the “ug, ug, ug…..pause…..ug, ug, UG……UGGG……waaaaaaaaaaaaawaaaaaawaaaaaa”.

She has episodes where she cries with her eyes closed and her fists balled, stops briefly to VERIFY that she does in fact have an audience (me), only to proceed even louder.

She has OPINIONS, people.

So what do I do? I hold her. I rock her. I talk to her. I carry her around. I change her, soothe her, nurse her, feed her, play with her, and hold her. Then I hold her again. All day. All night.

That is, when she has her issues. Which is not every day. Because if this was happening every day this post would not be titled Wits end, but something more drastic like I quit or See you in the looney bin.

And sometimes I feel really sick of hearing myself tell my sweet, well-behaved 3yo boy to wait.  “Can you wait until I do such and such with Sonja please?” or “I’ll be there as soon as I finish with Sonja, okay Ben?” or “You are such a good boy for helping mommy with Sonja Bee, I’ll come play with you as soon as she is yadayadayada”. I mean, he’s still so little too.

Frankly, I’m truly surprised that after last week’s trouble at school, where he got sent to the office for a time-out TWICE in one day because of poor listening issues, he’s been so incredibly patient, helpful and understanding. While Sonja is miserable. Teething? Probably. Reacting to her immunization? Probably. Being a baby…? Growing pains? Hungry? Hot? Cold? WHAT IS IT??

I think he knows it’s not her fault. I know it’s not her fault.

But. I’m. Tired. Of. The. Crying.

The end.


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