Once, a younger Facebook friend of mine who lived in a home without young children wrote a news feed post that read something like,
“Dear neighbors, are your children screaming because they are dying?”
Often as my own four children howl agonizing screams each evening I recall this post and I think about what the neighbors passing by each evening may think I am doing to cause my children to yell these similar screams of agony.
I’ve decided to share a few of these reasons with you:
- The chicken and cheese rolled up inside a tortilla last night were instead served over white rice and baked with additional cheese, corn, and Fritos this evening. Agony.
2. My child has to take a bath. And also has to decide between a bath or a shower. Agony.
3. Someone passed someone on the stairs. Double agony. And biting and scratching.
4. The water is too hot. Agony.
5. My child has to actually have their hair washed in the bath. The soap-sudding and rubbing messes up their hair style. Agony.
6. The water and soap from the shower are touching a completely healed boo-boo on my child’s knee. Agony.
7. When my child’s hair is rinsed with water, the hair must be smoothed down straight. Completely straight. If one strand of hair is crooked… agony.
8. The water in the shower is now getting cold because it took my child too long to get their body under the nozzle. Agony.
9. When it is time to dry off. My children are so cold. So cold. So they are screaming and crying. In agony.
10. If you accidentally towel dry my child’s hair, this messes up their perfect, completely straightened hair style. Agony.
11. If daddy dresses a child instead of mommy or vice versa. Agony.
12. The completely healed boo-boo will hurt if pajamas touch it. Agony. Must slide pajamas on carefully without touching completely healed boo-boo or I will ensue more agony.
13. I brushed my daughters hair. Agony.
14. I picked out the wrong pajamas. Agony.
15. I am trying to breathe and remain calm. My husband and I are laughing amidst this agony. We suggest that these children of ours may be tired and need to go to bed. Agony. They are not tired. What were we thinking?
16. We negotiate with books. We hug them. Cope with them. Tell them they will feel better in the morning once they calm their hearts and go to sleep. It is the two youngers who are in agony. My husband reads to them while I make their warm milk. (I still warm milk for a five and three year old-I am in agony.)
17. The milk is too hot. My three year old likes it warmed at 40 seconds and then she prefers I add one ice cube. The omission of the ice cube ensues agony as well as adding an additional ice cube. Agony. The milk temperature is not right.
18. I forgot the kiss pattern is four kisses and four hugs. Not four kisses and three hugs. (I think he just didn’t feel the last one.) Agony.
All in the space of ninety minutes. Eighteen reasons why you may hear screams of agony coming from my home. No, my children are not dying. My husband and I are simply trying to feed them, bathe them and tuck them into bed. With love.