it’s true. the witching hour actually exists. today, henri was A-dorable from the time i got home around 2 or so, until around 5-ish, at which point he started “thrashing” himself on to the floor, Jack Black style, while simultaneously jumping in and out of his turned-upside-down (kid) armchair, until he hit his head on the corner of the coffee table. he started crying, but then realized it would be more comforting just to lie on the floor, face-down, and play dead.
OMG. i have never witnessed such a transformation. sure, he’s hungry, tired, bored…blah blah blah. i get it. so that means he goes insane? becomes a rock star? practically slices his left ear off? aren’t there easier ways to get attention…?
call me crazy. but i’m a fan of words, and using them. how old does he have to be before he can understand the phrase, “MOM. PAY ATTENTION TO ME. NOW.” the kid knows what a compost is. he’s recognizes about ten letters and the numbers 4 and 2. i think he can learn to say “yo, i need some lovin’ biyatches.”
wait. is this some sort of genetic malfunctioning i’ve passed down? the inability to ask for help (or anything else) when you need it…? uh-oh. get the baby meds. let’s stop this “nervous breakdown” before it happens…