Screech Fest 2011

Well it finally happened. That moment where I realized I'm not impervious to the screech.

No, I'm not talking about that tasty little beverage from Newfoundland. 

I'm talking about my daughter shifting into a banshee. I guess it makes sense; we have a faerie shrine in the garden, and we have Irish heritage. Although, I don't think anyone keeled over... oh gods, I hope my daughter isn't a death omen...

... sorry, tangent. Let me rewind.

Penelope is an amazing baby. She has fussy time almost every day (usually around dinner time when we're trying to eat) but other than that, and the odd scream-into-the-pillow-night when she wont sleep, she's awesome to hang out with. This is her normal cry:

(Before you judge us for having video and photos of our darling babe crying, you should know we were coincidentally testing out our fancy new camera when she started... oh screw it ~ judge away. Her cry is adorable.)

Friday evening she was not awesome to be around. I finally got that I am not immune to the hair pulling, tear shedding, 1-2-3 counting, putting her in her crib and walking away moment. 

September 9th, 2011 will forever be known to me as Screech Fest 2011. I know it won't be the last, but it was my first. My first for closing my eyes tightly, breathing deeply and exclaiming far more loudly than I should have, "WHY WON'T YOU STOP CRYING?"

It was the first time I've walked away from her. It was the first time I felt the incredible guilt that comes with walking away from your babe. And it was the first time I thought, "What the hell was I thinking? I can't do this!" Of course, that lead to the second moment of feeling incredibly guilty. 

But you know what happened? 

After bouncing, walking, nursing, changing, rocking, singing, swinging and dancing?

She pooped. She stopped crying. She went back to being my awesome little noodle.

And I realized I had gotten back in a patient and loving head space while trying to find the source of her discomfort. I did it. I got through two and a half hours of screeching and a half hour of crying. (Half of that being mine)

I got through it all by myself. And it was because I took 3 minutes to walk away.