Silence

2/5/10

 

I don’t know how long you can let babies cry without scarring them emotionally, but I may have just tested the limits.  The babies are so tired that they refused to eat their freshly pureed organic lunch.  Sam refused to eat his macaroni with butter and parmesan.  I refused to give him anything else (since I had already okayed it with him prior to serving it).  He continued to not eat it and pitched a 15 minute fit.  We compromised by my washing it off.  He took a couple of bites and declared it tasted like water.  I said, “what a surprise.  Did you think I rinsed it off with apple juice?”  He giggled, said no, ate a few more mercy bites and said he was finished.  Then he commanded me to give him an apple.  Peeled, sliced, STAT.  I blew up saying I’m not his slave.  Then I put the wailing babies down for a nap.  Then I got Sam down for a nap.  The babies continued to wail so I gave them each a bottle in case they were starving to death because they didn’t eat lunch.  They both glared at me and pushed the bottles away.  I left the bottles in the cribs and decided to ignore them by taking a shower.  When I got out, they were quietly whimpering which has since given way to blessed silence.  So I got dressed in my most comfortable ugly clothes and wrapped a scarf around my head turban style the way I imagine Gandhi’s wife might have.  Why?  Well, why not.  And anyway, it keeps my hair out of my eyes and will catch the pieces if my head explodes.

 

I’m not sure what I’m going to do with my next few minutes of peace, but I’ve decided that I’m not cleaning up from lunch, or doing laundry, or cooking or sewing or returning calls or paying bills.  I might get into bed with a cup of coffee and a book or sit staring out the window at the pond for a while.  And when they wake up, we might take a ride to nowhere until Bob gets home.  They’re always pretty good in the car.  At least it’s quiet now.  So musically, beautifully quiet.