Today, from 2:50 p.m. to 3:25 p.m. Dylan Bayer cried. I know, look at that face. It seems impossible, right? Look closer. If you stare long enough that face kind of becomes Jack Nicholson doing his version of the Joker. This crying fit wasn’t funny though, it was just pure evil.
I have to confess something. Until this point, Dylan has never cried for more than 10 minutes straight while I’m on duty. Never. Yes, he’s been fussy on and off for hours, but never has he been continuously crying like the bellow he burst forth today. It was awful. It was nonstop. I tried everything. I held him in every possible position. I did the shushing, rocking, swing, pacifiers, and an extra feeding. Nothing quieted the desperate, near gagging, full throat screams coming out of my son. I even went to the quiet room. It works 99 percent of the time. The vent in the laundry room is so magical at relaxing our boy that we actually recorded it, and use it as the white noise in his room. This was the one percent. He wasn’t having it. It got to the point that I actually took his clothes off and gave him a physical (I didn’t ask him to cough). I check to see if maybe he had an injury, and I spent a few seconds wondering if I’d be happy to find him injured because that would explain the crying fit that has never occurred before. Nope, he was OK.
A combination of holding, rocking, and shushing finally calmed the beast. Though lets be honset, I think he just wanted to stop, because he went from insane tears to that smile you see in seconds, and I don’t feel like I did anything to deserve it. He’ll be back for more, and I’ll be attempting to solve his problems while weathering the storm.