Then mine is full of crying babies and no means to soothe them. In fact, in my hell, I'm strapped down or armless and can only just listen while the screaming cries rain down upon me.
Welcome to hell.
Hell is a seething pit of dirty, mustard colored poo and milky spit up. Its reaching for a baby wipe to clean a dirty bum and coming up empty. Hell is reaching for a new diaper only to find empty airspace. Hell is watching the door close as my wife steps out for a much needed and incredibly well deserved break just as the baby boy grunts back to wakefulness that's quickly followed by hungriness.
There are good nights and there are not so good nights. A good night is getting to bed before midnight, its putting the boy down and having him stay down. A good night means the first thing that brings me back to the waking world is the smiling and tail wagging face of Nande letting me know that its time to get up and take her for a walk down by the slough.
A bad night? A bad night means getting to bed close to one or two in the morning after walking Graydon into a restless sleep state. He's been unhappy and crying for hours upon hours sprinkled with moments of quietness as he regathers his strength for another round of screaming cries. A bad night means being woken up two, three or four times to change, feed, rechange and cuddle, swing, walk and do whatever it takes to lull him back to sleep.
Now let's add in a fun little twist called InGrown Toenail. I've had one before, a while ago and it was a pretty mellow one and it still hurt to high holy fucking hell. It makes life truly and utterly miserable. Now let's put that sore toenail on the baby boy and see how that makes things go.
Welcome to my hell. Its not hell all the time and, actually, most of the time its still wonderful. But there are hours and evenings when my sanity runs close to that edge and wants to leap out into the chasm that is madness. Those moments that stretch on for an eternity where his tiny face is screwed up in cry mode and almost nothing will soothe him. Sometimes something will knock him down for a few minutes like putting on one of a handful of songs that have the capacity to put him to sleep, songs like Ismael Lo's Dibi Dibi Rek, Eek-a-Mouse's Zum Galli, Cat Steven's Peace Train and Bob Marley's Concrete Jungle. They will do the trick once in a while but not every time, that would be far too easy.
I still wouldn't trade my son for anything in the world and I wouldn't want to miss a single moment of his life. I love him more deeply than anything in the world and would do literally anything for him.
But there are definitely times when a time out becomes more than just a little attractive.
And hey, guess what? Tonight has had a few minutes along those lines. What doesn't kill us, just makes us stronger. And I know we'll need that strength.
Oh yeah, my hell also includes Jury-fucking-Duty and guess what? I've got all week to call in every night to see if I get to spend some of my leave time at the courthouse before they realize that there's no way I can or will be on a jury right now. I've got a newborn and a wife who's still recovering from major surgery and I think that pretty damned well handily trumps any civic duty requirements.
And wait, before I go, its Gratuitous Swearing Week so let's all join hands and join together in a rousing round of swearing. I'll start and I might just try to make it rhyme.....
Goddamn, motherfucker, cock sucker, bitch.
Shitstain, monkeyjacker, festering jock itch.
That'll do it for now. I think I'll enjoy GSW'04!
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