Scream

Scene – Interior condo, lights are dim, camera pans past clock on cable box, clock reads 8:45pm, coldish beer on coffee table, Monday night football on the TV.

-Phone vibrates.

JADL
(Ignoring Call) I don’t know who that is. (swipes ignore)

-Phone vibrates AGAIN.

JADL
(pauses… answers phone) Yea…
Caller
Do you like scary movies?
JADL
What? I guess.
Caller
What’s your favorite scary movie?
JADL
What’s my favorite scary movie?
Caller
Yea.
JADL
Hmm I would say the one with the married guy in his late 30s, with 3 kids, living in a 1200 sq ft condo, and doesn’t get one fucking moment of quiet time. None… ever. Not taking shower, brushing teeth, going to the bathroom, sleeping, working, or minding his own damn business. And there is a one year old that does nothing but fucking scream and scream and scream all day long. There are two other two assholes that argue, yell, and scream at each other all day. Do you know what it’s like to wake up every day and immediately look forward to when your kids have to go back to bed so you can have 5 fucking minutes to just watch something you want to watch or just cry? So yea, that would be the one. Have you seen it?
Caller
Damn… (Click)

I’m sure a lot of you know this movie where ‘Dad’ and ‘Mom’ could be interchangeable. As parents I know we all love our little bundles of joy, but there is also that unspoken wish of trading them away for a box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts and a pack of Newports (I don’t even smoke and I would still take that deal). It’s like the best part of being a parent is being a parent and the worst part of being a parent… is being a parent. Yea it’s a weird paradox where there is never really enough time in a day but at the same time, some days there is still too much time in a day. It’s not all bad but then again, it’s all bad. Alright, you get it. Not trying to sound like a Debbie Downer over here but if you have kids then you know, and if you don’t then I speak for all parents when I say… we kind of hate you. I joke I joke, I kid I kid.

Really it’s not the ‘kids’ fault, but I would say more the fault of the kid. For example, my first two youngins were pretty easy to manage. I may have mentioned this before, but they were really easy babies. Slept in their own rooms at an early age, slept through the night, didn’t fuss much, and were easy to please. It wasn’t until they got older that sibling rivalry started. It’s a nonstop grudge match over the dumbest shit. As annoying as it sounds, it was all still manageable with the two of them. Then came numero tres that we affectionately refer to as the beast of the east, terror on two legs, el chupacraby, or simply ‘for fuck sake please stop screaming’ and the mold was broken (along with my sprits). Dealing with the first two little crumb snatchers was nothing compared to number three. I get it, babies just don’t come out of the mystical mom tunnel of life knowing how to talk, but come on, help us out here. At least let them know some basic sign language or give them the ability to point at what they need with like at least 80% accuracy. Naw, you know what you get with a baby??? Screams, yells, grunts, and more fucking screams. Now when you mix a screaming baby with a person that has zero patience, maybe less than zero, you’re going to have a bad time. Which tends to cause issues sometimes because I’m so jaded now that as soon as I hear one outburst, I’m ready to hit the one year old with a hard STFU… but I refrain. I say it in my head, but not past the lips (refer to previous post for official STFU rules and regulations).

With the little one I have tried a number of things to help curb these unwanted outbursts of vocal amplification. We do word recognition, pointing practice, sign language training but none of that is at the level that I would prefer. She always just reverts back to her signature move, screaming. To make the issue even worse, we started giving her ‘snacks’ in an effort to fend off these mind melding vocal cues anytime she starts to amp up. By ‘snack’, I mean anything that is close and edible (sometimes not even edible #shouldershrug). This causes a whole other world of issues because now anytime she wants something to eat, what do you think we get? Screams. Yep, we now get more screams because we caused her to associate screams with food #winning #butnotreally. This tactic of snacks for screams is also concerning for a whole other reason. Since she screams a lot, we feed her snacks a lot which is why we are probably going to have a little fat ass baby. I’m sure we went wrong somewhere in the directions for newborn management, but when you are outnumbered and the opposition is winning, you have to do whatever you can to survive (think Staff Sergeant Lincoln Osiris – Operation Tropic Thunder). So, if the baby makes a noise then the baby gets a snack. If the baby looks like she is about to get upset, then the baby gets a snack. If the baby looks in my general direction, yep, the baby gets a snack. It’s not really that bad with the snacks, but this little jabba the butt does get more snacks than the rest of the crew. I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night screaming ‘Hurry, hand me a snack.’

Screams, scary movies, kids… it’s all the same shit. The majority of us parents are living in a real-life Steven King novel just trying not to get our brains fried by the main antagonist. So I say do whatever you have to do to make it through the day, stay strong, keep up the fight, and always have some snacks nearby.