Friday, May 1, 2009

My little Ferrari

Look at this face.... isn't this the face of a cherub? Isn't it hard to imagine this face bringing anything but pure happiness to anyone lucky enough to behold this sweet visage? This is how I feel most of the time when I regard my second son.

But lately this little bundle of joy has been driving me crazy. He is a little on the high-maintenance side. When he is happy, he is a total joy. But when he is not, which lately has been the road more-travelled, he is relentless in making sure everyone within earshot is aware of his misery. Like a fine and expensive sportscar, he can accelerate from calm to total meltdown in the blink of an eye. It's an awesome display.

When he was born, the pediatrician on the floor came and whisked Kashton away for his newborn check-up. When he returned with my infant he launched into a 10 minute rant about how my precious son had the most annoying cry he had ever heard. He went on and on about how he and the nurse had to turn up some music to drown him out, how had he known he was going to be leaving the peace of his office for this (this being my hour-old son), he might have reconsidered.

I was simultaneously amused and insulted at the terrible bedside manner of this dr. who was potentially breaking the heart of a hormonal, tired, and terribly proud mother. I felt immense pity for any new mother, aglow in the beautiful haze of first-time motherhood to have the misfortune of having Dr. Crankypants come and sully the experience with his heartless words.

Now, months later, and firmly in the trenches in this battle of child-rearing, I realize that Dr. Doesn't-Know-When-To-Keep-His-Mouth-Shut may have had a point. Kashton's cry is akin to fingernails down a blackboard. He honestly sounds like he's being tortured - it's that painful to listen to.

Aside from the attention-seeking behaviour that is so classically second-child, and of which I know nothing about - being a very well adjusted first child myself, I think Kashton's fussiness of late stems from the fact that he is made to sit and observe while his older, more able brother whirls around him in a mad frenzy of toddler activity. I thought the skill of sitting up would help, but it hasn't. It has just made him desperate to crawl and stand. It's a good thing I love him because lately he is not endearing himself to us with the constant griping about his plight in life.

I do know that this too will pass and for now I'm realizing that for all those prayers I've made with requests of patience, God has provided me many opportunities to be patient.

And in regards to an old, socially-inept Pediatrician.... forgiving.


letisha said...

love the post, because i have been feeling a little like that myself lately....
like i. am. slowly. going. insane!
don't know why, except i am sure it is hormonal...

Anonymous said... it- lap it up babee- this is it

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