Occasionally, I’ll try to do something crazy, like go to the bathroom alone. The Madness will be watching a show, the Bean will be trapped in her bouncing baby containment unit ™, and off I’ll slink for some quality alone time with my thoughts and my iPad.
Inevitably, as soon as I’m otherwise engaged, the Bean will notice I’ve left and will begin to wail like the abused, abandoned child that she is. This morning, all this is going down as expected when I hear the Madness shouting back at the Bean. Terrified that some weird, toddler throw down is about to take place, I haul ass (haha) into the living room to put an end to this:
The Bean is wailing and Madz is demanding, “Why are you crying!?” over and over at increasing volume. I get it, I do. Something about baby crying sets fire to our lizard brains, sending off all kinds of panic red flags to MAKE IT STOP before the bears come eat us.
Also, and perhaps more to the point, it’s very hard to hear She-Ra tap into the power of Grayskull over all the weeping. (Yes, I let Madz watch She-Ra. We’re deep in a princess phase and She-Ra is, at least, an ass-kicking one. Stop judging me.)
So I sit the Madness down and I explain to her that the Bean cries because she doesn’t know the words yet for hungry or thirsty or “i pooped my drawers.” I tell her I understand it’s frustrating but that we have to be patient and blah, blah, blah – I can see her eyes glaze over. “She can’t tell you what’s bothering her, honey. You can come get mom or dad if you feel she needs tending to. Thanks.”
I realize she’s still a little too young to understand, or care, about the inner workings of a baby.
And then there’s this:
She learned it from watching you, dad.