Dec. 26, 1999 - Sunday
Harry and I had our first crisis today. Except for Christmas events, Harry's mother has been cooped up in the house since returning from the hospital, so we decided that once Harry settled down for his afternoon nap she should take the car, get out, go shopping, and run some errands. It was a good plan on the surface because Harry typically sleeps for a couple solid hours and she thought she'd take just an hour.

Unfortunately, Harry did not sleep for two hours. Harry slept for just a half an hour and, used to eating upon wake-up, was not surprisingly displeased that no food was on the proverbial table. Daddy thought changing Harry would distract him, as that often precedes nursing after his waking up, and it did to some degree. But, when the changing was done and the milk didn't flow Harry was out of his element and so was his father. Unequipped to meet the impending demands, daddy spent the next 20-25 minutes trying to divert Harry's attention by holding him in different positions, walking him around the house, talking, singing, swinging, and scouring the house for a hither-to-fore unused pacifier. Regrettably, Harry was unwavering in his commitment to eating well and staying healthy and few of daddy's tactics had more than a fleeting effect. Harry made more noise in the 25 minutes before his mother came home than in the rest of his short life in total.

Fortunately, as miserable as the experience was, it was also darkly amusing. The cause and effect was quite clear and there wasn't much I could do for the boy, so I can't be too scarred by the situation. His mother and I talked about our individual reactions to Harry's moments of expressed discomfort and, interestingly, where she is emotionally wrought by his admittedly infrequent outburst I see them more as something of a puzzle to be solved, albeit an awkward and uncomfortable puzzle. I'm curious if other mothers and fathers (ie., females and males) have similar perspectives.