On any given day, my neighbors probably think I'm raising a baby dinosaur in here.
Gabriel seems to be going through a Drama King phase, and his high-pitched, raspy wails sound like an angry baby pterodactyl.
This baby goes from huge grins to wild tears in the blink of an eye. He'll go from sparkly-eyed and cuddly to clenched-fists-and-pointed-toes mode so quickly! He threw his pacifier across the pew at mass last Sunday, getting giggles out of the entire row of people behind us. Fr. Dominic commented at the end of mass that he was sorry that not everyone "agreed" with the homily, winking over at us and our fussy infant.
If we have the misfortune to make Gabriel unhappy, he gives two or three warning whines and then a high-pitched squeal, followed by eardrum-bursting screams and then the baby dinosaur wails.
The other day, he simply got bored on his play mat and screamed at the top of his lungs, twice. No warning. I went over to him and tickled his nose, whereupon he just smiled up at me innocently, as if to say, "Thanks for coming over, Mom. I absolutely must have a change of scenery soon."
Sometimes it's tough not to take his dramatic vocalizations personally! I have to work to stay clear-headed and patient in order to evaluate what Gabriel may need or be trying to tell me. Still, I know sometimes babies cry for no good reason at all, and I do keep that little nugget in the back of my head to give me some peace of mind. In the end, all I can do for my little dinosaur is feed him, bathe him, change him, play with him, put him down for naps and love him with all my heart. And he's a happy baby overall.
In fact, I could write many more paragraphs of posts about how adorable, sweet and happy he is most of the time. In the end, I imagine that I'll look back in 50 or 60 years (when I'll be the dinosaur:) and only remember how sweet a baby boy I had and how wonderful this time in my life was.