Bring on Tomorrow

This Mama is ready for a fresh start in the morning.

Today, for all but the last couple hours before bedtime, was literally the roughest day of Miss Olive’s short life.

My typically pleasant, cheerful, sociable, loving baby girl was a pill. She was what I will lovingly refer to as my “banshee child” all day long.

She started having a rough morning shortly after she woke up, and I wasn’t worried about sticking it out until after the morning nap. I figured the sleep would turn her around, as it usually does if she’s a little crabby.

Oh how very wrong I was.

The Banshee Child awoke after just over a half hour. She alerted me with a loud, shrill cry. I knew I was in trouble when I opened her door and all the hair on the right side of her head was at attention. After much combing, brushing, wetting with water – and, OK, a little spit, it remained untamed for hours to follow.

So did Olivia.

She wanted to be held, but got mad when I held her. She wanted to play, but got frustrated by every toy. She wanted to read books, but was annoyed by every single one. She acted hungry, but she refused more than two bites of a wide variety of what are typically her favorite foods.

I got whining. I got the crinkled-nose, pursed-lip pouty face. I got crying. I got whaling. I got full on fits.

I know I’ve been blessed with a pleasant child. She was never a fussy baby. She never had colic . She has a generally pleasant disposition and is always up for a good time.

Not today. And by about 1 p.m. I was all out of happy-baby tactics. So, since I had planned to head to Target today anyway, we hopped in the car and took off. To be honest, I wasn’t sure it I would be safe in such close quarters with the Banshee Child, but the thought of her possibly regaining cheeriness in public seemed worth the risk.

In hindsight, it wasn’t. Not at all.

My little angel who is typically all smiles and chitchat, who waves wilding yelling “Haa” (Hi) and “Buu” (Bye), was nowhere to be found. She had been replaced by the Banshee Child who made the grumpy rotten face at passersby and continued her crying and ranting throughout the store.

“Aw, she’s so pretty, but she looks upset,” said a store clerk. “Understatement of the year,” I replied.

The Banshee calmed overcome by sleep midway through our 10 minute drive home.

I have never in my life enjoyed silence so very much.

Inside, I put my little ball of rotten straight down to keep on napping. When she woke up almost two hours later, I must admit I was afraid to go in her room. What if she hadn’t shaken her mood yet? Was I really ready for more? “Deep, deep, really deep breathe,” I thought, as I opened the door.

Thankfully, she seemed happy to see me, and I was greeted with a big hug and a slobbery kiss – nothing better.

I know I’ve said before that I am thankful for Miss Olive’s delightful personality, but I have never meant it more than I do after today. I’m sure she’s just going through a spell of something – teething, growth spurt, frustration about not mastering something she’s trying to learn as quickly as she’s like.

Here’s to a better day tomorrow. I’m ready to greet by sweet little Ladybug come morning. My prayers before bed tonight will include one for a banishment of the attack-of-the-Banshee-Child in the future.

Wanted: This lovely, loving baby girl.