Tuesday, March 02, 2010

The Irony of His First Laugh

Writing, for me, serves many purposes. Not only is it my passion, my center, my lifelong dream and goal, writing is also cathartic. When I write, it always relieves something. It helps me share the good. It also helps me release the aggravation.

Today, I am writing for the latter.

It is my first taste in understanding how parents can simultaneously love their child and also want to run away to Bora Bora alone and get lost in the beauty of the ocean, away from screaming cries and milk stains and the smell of diapers and the sight of bad eczema.

Today Isaiah was a complete paradox. After sleeping through the night consistently for over a month (I know, I know - we're incredibly blessed and I shouldn't be complaining), he didn't last night. He WAH!ed and AIGH!ed for an hour while I tried everything to calm him down, but...to no avail.

He woke at 8am and was just as fussy. So I stripped him down to his diaper to look for any signs of...anything - rashes, bumps, bruises - signs of discomfort or hurt. Nada.

While he laid on our big bed squirming like a fish out of water with nothing but his diaper on, I couldn't help but laugh at how adorable he looked. His pure smooth skin (except his face where he has eczema, poor guy) and fat rolls...he looked like an enormous human cinnabon, just ready to be eaten. So I leaned over and teased him, calling him my favorite pumpkin and gave him a friendly zerbert on his stomach.

And thus came Isaiah's first laugh.

3 hearty, adorable chuckles erupted from his tiny little mouth and I squealed in delight.

That was the highlight of the day.

The rest of the day he was either fussing, crying, yelping, or sadfacing. I was at my wit's end and contemplated what Bora Bora looked like this time of year. I could hear it calling my name. Liiiiiisssssaaaaaa...LLLLLLLiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiisssaaaaaa

I was brought back to reality when Isaiah spit up on me for the fifth time.

It was a toss-up between me and his burp cloth for WORST SMELL IN THE LIVING ROOM. We both were covered in Isaiah's regurgitation.

Of course it had to be a night when Nick worked late until 9pm. He walked in to find me on the floor, lightly bouncing Isaiah in his bouncer while his eyelids drooped closer and closer to a close. My other hand was stuffing dinner in my face because I hadn't eaten in hours. Taking care of Isaiah required both hands all day. Food was secondary. By 9pm, I was so ravenous, I felt like I was going to eat a piece of old firewood laying in the fireplace. It looked like a hotdog at the time.

Luckily, I was able to scarf down dinner while Isaiah bounced around for a few minutes. Nick had barely entered the house when I announced that I needed to go upstairs and get my sanity back. "I'm going to take a shower. If you need me, I'm NOT available."

It's ironic that Isaiah's first laugh came today when I spent most of the day near tears with Bora Bora dreams. Nothing, not even the promise of spring in three weeks could alleviate the stress of a restless baby.

And so, I write.


  1. And blessings upon your head for writing it out, as well. You capture it so well.

    Someone once told me- the difference between good mothers and bad mothers is good mothers just *think* about defenestrating their children...

  2. Oh, mommy, I don't miss those days.

    Although, I remember this funny little moment when E was about 10 months old and sick with a nasty ear infection (he had them constantly), and he'd been crying and crying all day. I was at my wit's end and had been walking him all over the apartment all night with a cool washcloth on his head, trying my hardest not to scream. I put him down for a moment so I could do something else, and when I came back he was sitting there sobbing with the washcloth still on his head. He looked so pathetic. It was so funny I chuckled, and he stopped crying for a minute and looked at me, and then he laughed too. And went back to crying for the rest of the night. But it was like we'd shared our first moment of communal absurdity.

  3. this sounds so familiar in our family as well, especially the face-stuffing at 9pm part! have you considered the possibility that he might be teething? most of the babies i know have this kind of fussiness when their gums are sore and tender. isaiah might be too young for a popsicle, but he might appreciate a cold damp rag to chew on. good luck!

  4. Oh my GOSH, this was awesome. More, more!

  5. The first time I heard my niece laugh (the closest person I've ever felt a baby-bond with), I fucking burst into tears. Babies are weird and evoke weird feelings. I mean it was like heartbreak and happy-crying all in one when that happened. No wonder I was afraid of that kid.

    Also, happy belated birthday to a fellow pisces. And I hope tomorrow is a day with more chuckling all around and more eating. xoxo


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