we lost her...

Children cry - that's all there is to it. Sometimes it seems that the most random things can set them off and before you know it the world has come to an end over the most mundane things. Within moments, said tragedy is forgotten and life goes on.

There are those occasions, however, when the recovery time does not happen that quickly. It may start off small, but suddenly a point is reached where there seems to be no return. I typically begin with a warning to Jamie of, "we're losing her." If nothing changes, then inevitably it becomes, "we've lost her."

Case in point? The other day I was preparing dinner for us three. Chicken and broccoli were on the menu. I had plopped Alexis in her chair (an attachable number that connects to the table versus being a stand-alone highchair). "Fine," she must have initially thought. "I'll wait." But as I begin the painstaking process of chopping broccoli and chicken into bite-sized pieces, she begins to whine. "I'm working on it sweetpea." The whining gets louder and angrier. "Alexis...is that doing any good?" Of course, now that it's chopped up, we still need to wait for it to cool a tad lest we burn the child's mouth. Now we're beyond whining...it's crying.

Finally, food is cool enough and ready for her. At this point she's red-faced and boogery. When I put the plate of broccoli in front of her and she swipes it with her hand, throwing back her head, I knew we'd lost her. Jamie had come into the kitchen to get his plate and says, "just put it to bed." It's 6:00 - that's not going to happen. And what he didn't seem to understand is that when they're gone, it takes a while to bring them back, and putting her down on the floor or in bed is just going to put her much farther over the edge.

I pull her out of her chair and begin the annoying but necessary process of trying to talk her down off the ledge. There comes that moment when you think you've done it. All that remains is that little quick intakes of breath where she seems to be considering whether she's done or not. You wait, holding your breath, hoping it's done, but then suddenly the head tosses back again and it starts over. It's like post-traumatic stress disorder...whatever was upsetting before is upsetting still.

Finally, I make a big huge show out of Rambo licking her hand, "look look look it's Rambo he's so sweet look look look." Then, I make another big show of munching on her cold chunks of broccoli. "Mmmm." I'm walking on egg-shells. If I put her back in her chair too soon, would it start over? But at the same time I'm not going to hold her through her entire meal. Finally, when the horror seems to have left her mind, I plop her back in her seat and all is well again in the world. Face stained with tears, cheeks beet red, boogies everywhere, she munches away as if nothing happened.

The mood swings of children are amazing. I assume it's because she can't yell at me yet so this is the only way she knows how to express her emotions. She's like a PMSing woman on crack. Good practice for some day being married and driving her husband nuts, I'd say. (We've all been there, haven't we ladies?)

Thank God for our pain in the ass Rambo in this situation. We'll keep him close. He seems to be a good negotiator when she's about to jump off the ledge.