Today was bad.
Since Tyson is over the croup and the antibiotics (which are super fun to shoot down his little throat while simultaneously pinning him down) are finally kicking in with that darn ear infection and 1-3 teeth are finally poking through (he doesn't sit still long enough for me to really look), I thought that he would be in a better mood. Turns out I keep blaming his sour disposition on something physiologic...but I fear I may be wrong.
He was so angry today. Nothing made him happy...nothing. I tried to take him to the library in hopes of a change of scenery (for both of us really), and maybe because I'm getting tired of reading Good Night Moon 45 times a day. I'm still not sure what I was thinking. I had him in his stroller initially. He hates anything that straps him down so I basically carried him on one hip the whole time trying to keep his pacifier in his mouth in hopes of dampening the ear-piercing sound that kept erupting from it while pushing the stroller in the other.
PS-if you want to make a bunch of people really irritated, take an unhappy, very loud baby into the library where nobody is even allowed to talk at normal volumes and see what kind of chaos ensues.
The trip ended with both of us crying on the way home....he was just a lot noisier about it.
A few of my coworkers who also have new babies are constantly talking about how fantastic and easy parent-hood is and how they can't wait for more kids. I've come to a few conclusions about these statements...
1-they are lying.
2-they have more help
3-their babies are more mellow.
Yesterday I had things under control. Yesterday I felt like Donna Reed.
...today I feel more like Rosanne Barr.
Thank goodness for early bedtimes.