Inconsolable

Uff da. We had a bad day yesterday. Dylan, myself, and most of all Baby Julia. The Juje has been on the edge of something big. She has been saying a few words, signing others (ASL style), and getting into everything. Part of the everything Julia loves to get into includes her brother’s face. “No Julia! Stop it! Daddy!” has been the refrain.

We had the car for the day as Nelly carpooled with a friend, and it seemed a shame to continue our housebound streak when we had an opportunity to play with other kids, so I scheduled an afternoon appointment at the downtown YMCA playstation.

The playstation is great for at-home parents like myself, as it offers the all important two-fer: exercise for daddy, playtime with others for the children. What could be better to cure the wintertime blues? We had taken the bus downtown the last few times and really enjoyed it, but my muscles were like jelly by the time we arrived home, what with carrying baby and gear to the bus stop, walking from the Ground Transportation Center to the Y, working out for an hour, then getting us back home.

So there I was, fifteen minutes into a workout that was to include cardio, weight lifting, jumping rope, and sitting in a hot room with large naked men when a playstation attendant pulled me from the elliptical machine. She was sorry to have to do it, but Julia was inconsolable.

Skipping both sauna and shower, I hustled while thinking to my snide self it was too bad they couldn’t handle a baby crying. When I opened the door, I understood. She was inconsolable. Tired, cranky, and straight up screamy, she alternated between shrieking and shaking until she fell asleep in the car a few minutes from home.

Getting out of the Y and to the relative safety of our car was enough of a challenge, thank goodness we did not also have a bus to catch. Dylan exacerbated the situation, adding his own growls and complaints to the melodramatic millieu. His usual dawdling and insistence on the proper order of putting on his winter stuff could not be altered, no matter how eloquently I stated the need for his complete and prompt cooperation. Uff da.

I handled things fairly well, but will admit that I was very snappy and out of sorts for the rest of the evening, until the children were safely asleep. It was a tough day.

Early this morning, I crawled into bed expecting baby girl to be there, and I discovered what all the fuss was about.

“She’s still in her crib where you put her down last night,” Janelle told me. “She slept through the night.”

Now how great is that? Good days and bad, progress and regress, it is all time well spent here at the big house in Moorhead.

*simulposted to TheDaddyDispatch*

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