Thursday, March 18, 2010

The 7th ring of Hell

Picture this:

You're in a car.
You've just picked up your mother from the airport.
You're facing an hour and a half minimum more in the car.

And...your child decides NOW is the time to freeeeeeeeak out like they've never freaked out before.

OMG is it a dirty diaper? An empty belly?
God only knows and he's playing his cards close to the chest so you're left with a child who is screaming so loud the car next to you is shaking and you have no idea of what needs to be done to help. Judging by the noise, it sounds more like some invisible somebody is ripping your kid's toenails out in the backseat but since that's kind of unlikely you fall back on the old favourites:

Diaper change? Check. Still screaming? Check.

Bottle? Check. Still screaming? Check.


Yup. Feel that sweat trickle down your back while you flail around for a crying cure 'cause let me tell you...your kid's favourite toy or mommy's "silly face" just isn't going to do it THIS time.

Oh yeah. And while you're sitting there sweating and feeling like a failure as a mother, be forced to whip out a boob in a ridiculously busy parking lot in a last ditched attempt to soothe your baby.

Motherhood. It's all about the glamour.

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