Good Morning, Bad Night

TGIF! Right? I love having Fridays off and always look forward to spending the weekend with my sweet Mills, my hubby (when he is off) and even ole' Joey. We usually don't have much of an agenda on Fridays. Usually, I will take Mills strolling around the square while window shopping and enjoy seeing the many familiar faces I have known all of my life. That is what I love about a small town. This week, the humidity was enough to knock you off your feet, and the heat was unbearable. I didn't even want to walk to the mailbox today, much less go strolling around town with a baby.

This week, we made plans to head across the street to our church's family life center for a short paint-a-piece session. My friend, Brandi, so graciously emailed me this week to let me know that she had a few spots open, and informed me that there would be "help" with baby's hand prints. (thank goodness) So, at 9:00 am, Mills and I loaded up, headed across the street, and painted a tile. The girl from paint-a-piece painted Mills' little hand and placed it on the tile like a pro, then I finished the product. I can only imagine what things would have been like if I had given Mills the painting sponge or a paint brush, so we opted for the "neater" way out.

After getting home, I coerced Mills into taking a nap. I knew he was tired so upstairs we went. He took a great nap, before I woke him up for lunch. During his nap time, I was busy working on his birthday party plans, which are enough to make you want to pull your hair out. I am almost ready to say, "That's it! We're having ice cream and cake! Just ice cream and cake!!! Would that be "uncool?" Seriously? No, I think not. As a matter of fact, it is sounding better and better by the minute!!!!!

We spent the rest of the afternoon with a very short trip to Walmart, then came home and played, read a few books. I could tell that my boy was getting sleepy again, so I tried to get him to take another short nap around 3:00. He would not have it, so the rest of the afternoon "went to pot!" I can honestly say that in the past 11 months, this afternoon and tonight had to be one the most trying of all. This, my friends, was one of those days that makes you take a deep breath, sit down and throw your head to your hands, because you have done all you can do and nothing is working. Mills cried and cried, and would not let me put him down. When I picked him up, he would try to wiggle out of my arms. Then, when he would get down, he would immediately reach for me AGAIN, and want me to pick him up. I tried giving him some formula in his sippy, and he threw it down, then commenced into a hissy fit. So, off to the high chair we went for supper. He took about 5 bites, started crying...AGAIN, and started shoving his food off of his tray. Oh yeah, Joey was more than thrilled. I, on the other hand, had "had it!" So, I left things as they were with complete confidence that Joey would help with the clean up. I took our sleepy eyed boy upstairs, put him in the tub (oh but he was happy now). Next to the bedroom for jammies and a book. It was 6:15 by then and nothing seemed to make Mills happy. So, I gave up. Heading downstairs to the fridge for his bottle, our boy rubbed his eyes and whined the whole time. So, you guessed it. It was bed time, and way to early for it, but I had no choice. I knew that if I went upstairs, fed him his bottle and rocked him, he would be out like a light and go to sleepy town. He is always so easy to put down. Oh, BUT WAIT! The little fella tried to wiggle out of my arms, pushed his bottle away and threw a fit. So, I gave him "pappy," which he didn't want, and tried to rock him a little more. This made him more and more mad. So, broken-hearted, I picked him up, and put him in his crib. Usually, he will play, or roll around in his crib. At the most, he will whimper, but tonight, he screamed like I have NEVER heard him scream before. My heart sank to my stomach as I turned and walked out of the room. I kept telling myself, "just keep walking, get the monitor. He's tired. He'll go to sleep." I could hear him screaming from the top of his lungs as I so sadly walked downstairs. It lasted for about two minutes and then I watched him throw himself down, grab "pappy" and he was done. *insert deep breath
Really, I wanted to cry, because I had walked out on him screaming. I felt like a heel, even though I knew what I had done was best. Would someone please tell me what sort of lingo this is? Honestly! Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.