the scheduling of sundays is always a little tough on samjam. his usual morning nap runs from 10 til noon, and our sunday morning meeting starts at 1030. so we're sitting down in church just about the time of day he'd normally be snuggled up on monkey, sound asleep.
(he has been trying to call monkey by name lately, which often sounds like mom-mom-mommy or mmm-dunkey.)
we take monkey with us, but sam is way too social to sleep in a room full of people. he has to see everything, play peekaboo, and dance along with the hymns. as long as he has monkey, he's actually really well-behaved, and i'm definitely not complaining about his adorable churchy antics. he is always so thrilled when the last announcements are made, and he can run across the room to collect more than his fair share of hugs. once he's had his hugs and some cookies or a sandwich in the basement, he's ready to come home and have a nap.
today, though, he was determined to do no such thing.
we tried to stay for sunday school, and i think that just did him in. he fell asleep on the way home, but woke up when we put him in his crib. and if you have ever spent time with a cranky, unreasonable, uncommunicative, screeching little toddler, you might have an idea of the way we spent our afternoon.
every suggestion was met with a petulant refusal.
after a few bites, he didn't want his lunch.
then he didn't want to play. he screamed and threw himself on the floor when we tried to play catch.
he shrieked for twenty minutes straight when we tried to settle him for his (desperately needed!) nap.
oh, the screaming :S. i was starting to worry that the neighbours would call children's aid.
i thought a high-five from monkey might make him laugh. he threw monkey face down in the crib and glared at me.
we tried drinks. we tried a movie. we tried silly dances.
our usually sunny little boy was a scowly thundercloud.
finally three hours had gone by. i was sure i was going to lose my mind, and by this time, i knew he had to be hungry and needed to eat, no matter what he thought.
so i put him in his bumbo on the counter and started feeding him.
and fed him.
and fed him.
and fed him.
finally, he reached the point where he wasn't screaming every 2 seconds. his little belly was so full that his shirt was pulled tight across it. so when he eventually refused a bite, i was very ready to stop.
he wanted to play on the deck, but shrieked when patrick closed the screen door between them. so patrick went out to play too, and the screeching stopped. just when i thought our neighbours might see us as kind parents, and not the vile elicitors of hideous screams, sam jumped on the back of a chair. it collapsed with him inside.
patrick rescued him and brought him inside for hugs. he had bitten his lip almost all the way through, and the sight of his tragic face, dribbling blood - oooh, my heart. he snuggled desperately into my neck while patrick got him some ice, and then played blissfully with an ice cube in each hand while the bleeding stopped.
i don't know if it was the trauma or the full belly, or just the reassurance that both of us were right there and loved him, but finally, our sunshiney boy was back. (or, it could be that my dad was right all those times, and sam just needed something to really cry about. just kidding.)
patrick gave him a bath, and the last thing i saw when i headed out the door tonight was a clean and happy baby, drinking his bedtime bottle.
whew. it was over.
i am so grateful that every day isn't like this! and i'm doubly grateful to have an amazing husband who loves us and takes care of us and makes sure our minds don't utterly meltdown when everything goes wrong.