I’ve always said that the one thing that is so frustrating about my cat is that no matter how old she gets, I will never be able to reason with her.
Oh, how I wish I could explain to Belle that if she didn’t eat ALL of her food in four seconds, she wouldn’t throw it up. Or that she can sit outside my bedroom door and meow for FIVE straight hours if she wants to, but she’s NOT coming in because she can’t be trusted on carpet.
At least with kids, they’ll probably understand you at some point. You’re not in for 18 years of blank stares. But it takes a while. At (almost) six months old, Ryan is not quite grasping logic yet.
If only he could, these are the things I would tell him:
1. It only takes six seconds of crying for your Dad and I to figure out that you’re hungry. We know what your hungry cry sounds like. You do not need to scream at the top of your lungs during the entire bottle-making and feeding-preparation process. You’re hungry. We get it. Milk is coming. Chillax.
2. If you hate tummy time so much, then roll over. You can do it. I’ve seen you do it. You are not helpless in this situation. Take matters into your own hands.
3. I have to wash your neck when I give you a bath. You spit up a LOT, and it all pools down there. It needs to be cleaned. Stop clenching your chin to your chest. I will be super quick with it, I promise. It won’t hurt, and it will probably cut bath time in half, which means you’ll get milk and/or toys even faster.
4. I know you want your binky, but you dropped it into the dirty grocery cart, and we don’t have a spare with us. It’s my fault for not bringing a spare, and for that, I apologize. But it doesn’t change the fact that we’ve now only got one very germy binky. No amount of whining and kicking in your car seat is going to make it clean. So let’s suck it up like a big boy. You can have all the clean binkies you want when we get home.