The freedom that comes from letting crying babies cry

So this morning someone asked me how old the Tine is. 

"Two," I answered.

"Ah, the terrible two's" (someone else chimed in).

"And they really are terrible," I added.

"My sister calls it the teachable two's," the original asker kindly stated.

My response...

"That's optimistic." (As my son pulled violently on my hand, then dropped prone to the floor in the throes of hunger).

Sometimes there is just no room for optimism in parenting.  Or for making things look or sound better than they really are.

It is refreshing to reveal that, at times, parenting sucks (and leave it at that). 

When the Tine was a baby I always had an excuse ready.  If he cried he was probably hungry.  If he fussed he was overtired.  If he was in anyway discontent teething was pegged as the culprit.

With the advent of Bady, I dropped the excuses.  I was too exhausted to prepare a reason for each child, every bad mood, all those toddler tantrums, inexplicable newborn crying.  And it is like I can breath again. 

I still care what people think... that the Tine is a brat or the baby is colicky (sidenote: I absolutely hate it when people hear your baby cry once and ask if he is colicky... really annoying).  But I don't care as much.  And that's a start.