Back before Facebook hit it big time there was MySpace. I spent quite a bit of time “blogging” about my two older kids there, and realized that I would like to eventually get these memories all in one place. So, from time to time I’m going to post a “retro blog” here. I don’t know about you, but I like rereading my memories.

A Beautiful Fit

December 2, 2007

I have lately been experiencing a phenomenon I refer to as “nerve jamming”.  I am so extremely sensitive to noisy racket, usually a product of my children, that I have felt on the verge of a nervous breakdown for about a month now. It usually occurs when I am desperately under the wire on some sort of deadline. The radio or TV will be on, and one will start crying,…usually the little one. Then the older one tries to make it better by singing at the top of her lungs…persistently…the same line of some disney chorus…over and over…despite my protests. Then the little one escalates. And I am always, with out fail, in some situation, like cooking dinner, where my hands are full of something and I can’t go turn the radio or TV off or pick anyone up or something. I find myself wanting to throw things or at the very least scream, “Calgon! Take me Away!”

Yesterday I had to drive to Macon alone with the kids for a family thing. Robert had to go to a continuing education seminar so it was just me, the kiddos,  I75 south, and a Point of Grace Christmas CD. About 25 miles outside of Macon the phenomenon began to occur.  I pulled over at the first exit to care for the youngest. There was some nursing, diaper changing, and I thought I was home free. AS SOON as I got back on the interstate, the oldest declared she needed a potty break. The next exit of course was something like 10 miles away. Then the younger one started again. With the older one yelling, “I can’t take it Mommy! I have to potty!”, the younger one got louder and louder. I thought I was absolutely going to lose my mind. Finally we reached a Waffle House and got everyone taken care of…again. We got back on the interstate again, we had about 5 minutes of peace, without the ladies from Point of Grace, and once again, the little one began to scream, but for no apparant reason that I could see. I could not stop again because now I was running late. I could feel the tension in my shoulders mounting. My fingers had a death grip on the steering wheel and I was really having to lighten my foot on the gas so I didn’t get hauled off to jail for speeding.

When Nate was born, he didn’t breathe on his own for nearly 8 minutes. No breathing meant no crying. It was the longest 8 minutes of my life. Much longer than the two hour trip to Macon. It finally occured to me as I was pleading for a way to cope, that his cry is one of the most beautiful sounds I have ever heard. I begged God to let me hear it 4 months and 3 days ago. I had to back up and remember to thank God for my baby who could throw a beautiful fit. His fury is one of the most wonderful things I have ever witnessed.

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