Here is the thing about having a newborn:
Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation. Maybe it’s the crying. Maybe it’s just frazzled hormones left over from growing another person in your body.
But, whatever the reason… it makes you a little nutso.
Not in a bad way, necessarily. But in this way: If my child is crying, there is literally nothing on this earth that is allowed to get between me and me ability to make him stop.
Unfortunately… our freezer tried to.
Remember how our first grocery store trip was fraught with peril ? Well, baby Bear is several weeks older at this point, and we’ve had a couple of successful trips in between. So, at the beginning of this week, I took him to the grocery store, once again.
And you know what? It was fine. He was fed and lulled to sleep by the drive over, and I spent a solid twenty five minutes grabbing things off the shelves, piling them into a cart, and then paying for them without a peep.
I was feeling quite proud of myself, to be honest.
But… then we got in the car to go home.
And let me throw in a bit of background here: I have a new car, which is very exciting, but it’s not a car that I’m familiar with — it has this push-button to start, which apparently doesn’t work if you haven’t properly closed the trunk, which is not a big deal in 99.9% of situations, but when you are sitting in a hot car with a newborn in the middle of a Texas summer and your car won’t start, you get a little frazzled. To put it mildly.
So, in case you haven’t guessed where this story is going… I couldn’t get my car to start.
And when it finally did, baby Bear’s grocery store nap was decidedly over.
Cool, ok, right? Five minutes home, I can put away the groceries and feed this little baby. Everything is fine, I told myself. How far can he devolve in five minutes?
Fast forward to our arrival home, at which point baby Bear is starting to scream in the carseat, telling me in the clearest possible way he can that he is hungry, RIGHT NOW, LADY.
But I still have a carload full of groceries — including a whole bag of frozen items that had already sat in my hot car long enough to start melting. And, obviously that’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened… but this girl loves her ice cream. Preferably unmelted.
So I decided to put the frozen stuff away, as fast as I possibly could. I’d made it all the way to the grocery store; I really didn’t want our ice cream in my car trunk for another an hour.
So I started.
And let me tell you, putting away a single bag of frozen food takes literally twenty seconds, but do you know what I managed to do in those twenty seconds?
Pull our freezer drawer off its hinges, and then dislocate the plastic cover.
Yes, I single handed-ly trashed an entire freezer drawer in twenty seconds.
Because the baby was crying.
Last week, we had a similar incident: Chad came into the baby’s room at night and realized that one of our curtain rods had been pulled halfway across the room. When he asked how I possibly used that much force to open a curtain, I looked at him helplessly: “The baby was crying.”
Because, you see, when that baby cries, I lose my mind a little. (A lot.)
And here’s the thing, you guys: I am not normally like this. I’m more of a laid-back, calm and relaxed, go with the flow type of person.
But when it comes to that baby crying? I am suddenly like a wild beast, tearing down everything in my path.
So, this is being a mom, I guess. Blissful newborn caretaker half the time; Godzilla the other.