Good Days and Bad Days

Avery, buddy, it's Dad. You know, I'm thankful that the overwhelming majority of our days together are happy and wonderful. But every once in a while, you can be a real headache. Here's a quick summary of our day so far.

First thing this morning, I sat you on your potty chair.  You sat there for a long time, but never released anything.  After a while, you wanted to stand up, so I helped you up.  You took two steps forward... and then peed on the bath mat.

I cleaned the floor, laid down a clean bath mat, took off the rest of your clothes, and stepped into the shower with you.  You shook your head, cried, squirmed and kicked, so I put you down in the tub with your toys, expecting that you’d happily play in the water as I showered like you usually do.  But no, not this time.  You cried and tried frantically to climb over the edge of the tub to escape.  So I put a fresh diaper and T-shirt on you and took you to the living room where you could be distracted by TV, toys, and breakfast while I showered.

I'd have been happier if this was
the worst thing you did today.

I showered, got dressed, and came downstairs to discover you completely rearranging your mom’s CD rack.  (By “rearranging”, I mean scattering them all over the floor.)  I immediately stacked them up and got them out of the way so you’d stop stepping all over them.  As soon as I had the last one stacked and put aside, you knocked a stack over and violently spread them out by waving your hand.  So I had to stack them again, and, of course, you tried again to knock them over.  I scolded you, you cried for about five seconds only, and then stopped.

You grabbed my hand, led me to the kitchen, and pointed at your mug on the island.  You love drinking from this mug, so I took the hint and gave you some Kool-Aid in it.  You took the mug and went back to the living room to watch cartoons while I took a minute to make myself a quick breakfast.

I heard your typical cry/growl of frustration, so I went to see what was wrong.  You had angrily thrown the mug onto the couch where about 20% of its contents had leaked onto your blankets and the sheet covering the couch.  I quickly picked it up, dried the spot the best I could, and took the mug back into the kitchen.  

I finished my breakfast and then you led me by the hand back to the fridge and pointed at the milk.  So I poured some into your blue teddy bear cup and handed it to you.  You whined loudly, pushed it away, and ran into the living room crying.

I calmed you by handing you a Rice Krispies treat, which you happily sat down and ate.  Then I smelled a horrific poop smell coming from you.  I gave you time to finish your snack (and hopefully finish pooping), and then we went to your room for a diaper change.  First, I tried to lay you down gently on one of your old receiving blankets.  Of course, this infuriated you as always.  I handed you a couple of toys to distract you while I did the dirty work, but this only worked long enough for me to get your diaper off and begin to wipe you down.  You angrily threw the toys then flipped over, smearing your stinky poop on my hand.  Your foot landed right in the dirty diaper, leaving a poop streak on the carpet as you sat up.  Since I had made the mistake of letting go of you to wipe the poop off my hand, you were able to sit up on your knees, squishing poop all over your calf muscles.  

So I again laid you down, keeping hold of your ankle this time so you wouldn't repeat that mess.  You were furious and struggled hard to turn over, but I was able to work quickly enough to clean your entire body from the waist down, which was necessary by this point.

I thought all that fussing might have worn you out.  You looked exhausted and were rubbing your eyes, so I thought maybe nap time was in order.  I tried to read you a story, but you just kept getting mad and slapping the book out of my hands.  So I tried to put you in bed, but every time I took a step toward your bed with you, you’d shriek, kick, and hit me.  So I decided to let you play for just a little longer until you were more calm and tired.

We went downstairs to the ball pit I made for you.  You were very happy to be back in there, but only as long as I was sitting there with you to pick up the balls as you threw them out.  If I dared to go four feet away to my desk, you stood up and fussed until I came back.

Finally, after picking up the balls for you (probably hundreds of times), you were ready to get out.  I lured you into your bedroom by doing the silly “Somebody Needs a Nap” dance that you love so much.  You laughed, followed me, and did the dance with me.  You were yawning and rubbing your eyes, so I knew it was nap time for sure.  I picked you up, rocked you in my arms a bit to make you laugh, then put you in bed.  You laughter instantly turned to screaming and crying as soon as I leaned over the crib rail.  But I wasn't going to let you fool me this time; I knew you were tired and needed sleep.  So I turned on your lullaby music and slipped out.  You screamed and sobbed for over 20 minutes before finally settling down to sleep, but now all is quiet.

I’m maintaining my optimism that the second half of our day will go much better after you wake from your nap.

Man, some days are rough with you, kiddo, but I love you anyway.