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Browsing Tag: crying

And Then There’s That

I love my son so much I sometimes wish I could just hold moments still–when he’s smiling at me, when I’m holding him, when he’s laughing at his sisters–to make sure I remember them so well I’ll never miss them. At nine months old, he lights up and says “Da Da” when he sees David walk into a room. He calls “Ma Ma” from his crib, usually when he wants something. It’s still sweet. If you say “kiss,” he leans his head forward to receive (maybe give, if he’s aiming for the air above my shoulder?) one. He laughs with a gasping guffaw when he sees one of us, and crawl-races over to be picked up. He smells like honey and warmth. He’s learned to stick his tongue out, which is way cuter now than it will be when he’s eight. He squeals with delight from his car seat as soon as he sees Saoirse climb into the minivan after school. He is adorable, and happy, and is an absolute delight, the life…

Saving Up for Her Therapy Now

I made my daughter cry today.  I raised my voice at my 3-year-old Saoirse (some would say yelled), at close proximity, at a decibel sustained for entirely too long, and made her cry.  I shouldn’t have yelled at her.  There was no reason to get that angry. We’d just gotten back from the grocery store.  It’d started out as a good day.  SK had her swim lesson this morning, and we were flying high on the pride that comes from swimming on your own, without help, for a whopping three seconds without drowning (Going into swim lessons, I heard:  “I loooove Coach Mike!”  Leaving swim lessons:  “I don’t liiike going underwater.  Let’s not do that again.”).  We desperately needed some kid-appropriate food in the house (you know, fresh fruit, yogurt, lollipops), so I decided to hedge my bets and duck into the store while the girls were in a good mood.  We grabbed an early lunch at the in-store cafe, and I figured that a full belly should hold the kids off for the hour (I was feeling optimistic) I needed. But…

The Oven Wasn’t Cool, Sylvia, but I Feel You

Saoirse has been in a bit of a temper tantrum phase, if you will (I wish you wouldn’t.  Maybe they’d stop, then).  The slightest blips in the radar of her world will set her off, and there’s no predicting them.  She’ll be happy as a seal on a seashore one moment, and the next acting like the mean ol’ angry shark that just came in to eat the seal for dinner. The best option for us right now seems to be to remove her from the situation until she calms down, because there is absolutely no talking to her/reasoning with her/begging to stop the crying already until she tires out.  It’s like a person who drinks too much out at the bar one night, and it’s only when he’s hanging over a toilet with a pounding head the next morning that he first feels those awful pangs of remorse.  SK, after the tantrum, has a period where she tries to figure herself out. This morning, I put her in a room after she pitched a fit because Quinn was playing with a bib…