Pretty accurate picture of the baby

I don’t like it when people cry, I don’t like to cry, and I certainly don’t like it when babies cry. It’s sad, loud, and gives me a headache. So you can imagine my surprise when my (I will just refer to the baby as mine because we have now become so close we have our own langauge) happy baby turned into a screaming banshee. Literally.

It started two weeks ago and like most things I blamed it on teething. But it wasn’t teething, it was a happy little boy making the slow change into a mythical creature who has a scream that can be compared to no other. Or it was a baby switching over his sleeping patterns, I’m pretty sure it’s not the latter.

The first time it happened I learned white noise is god, it calmed him when my soothing “Shh’s” failed and usually put him to sleep. The second time it happened I learned how much I freakin’ hate the fan in the bathroom and how it’s not easy to hold a baby that pushes you away ( side note- baby you are supposed to love me! – end side note). From there it just got worse.

I felt bad for the little guy because we both knew he was tired, but for some reason he insisted on screaming at me…men.

So I held him close (as I do with most men that try to escape from my clutches) and rocked him while singing Adele (his favorite singer btw). But there is only so much screaming I can handle, and like most people when they hear a screaming banshee, my head was about to explode.

I had to figure out a way to get back my little boy, and I did. It’s called a sleepy lamb (or a scary-as-all-hell-lamb-that-makes-baby-go-to-sleep-so-it-doesn’t-really-matter-what-it-looks-like). It made him go to sleep within minutes of turning it on! No more thirty minute screaming sessions, no more crocodile tears, no more nothing! Finally he sleeps! Which he is doing now, and not in my arms for the first time in weeks. Nanny win!

Everyone who is single wonders why. They want to know what’s wrong with them or why no one loves them (which is a cop-out because plenty of people do).

Me, on the other hand, I know why I’m single. Simply put, life for me is like being in a giant candy store, where men are the candy. And the choices are endless.

You’ve got your Ryan Gosling type, clearly chocolate, and then Ron Jeremy, those gross candies on paper. There is a huge range, for every Ryan Reynolds (peanut m&m’s) there will be a Jesse Eisenberg (Pez…).  It’s all about keeping the balance after all, can’t fill the world with Brad Pit’s (Pop rocks).

For me, this is how I’ve come to view the world er men in general. instead of looking at them as people, it’s more like candy. Which one will I choose today?

And, as I’m sure you know, I am horrible at making decisions.  Going to the grocery is an hour + ordeal (that’s when I have a list), which brands do I choose, what happens if I choose the wrong one (obviously the world will end). Each piece I put into my cart needs to be carefully examined to make sure it is the right choice.

Candy is even more important, if I’m going to sacrifice precious calories I need to make a painstakingly harsh decision. Do I want chocolate, or something fruity but sugary? And what if I choose the wrong candy, at the wrong time? Timing is everything. You don’t want something harsh and strong when what you really need is a light fruity savior.

And if having to choose was hard enough, the new editions that come out or the ones you missed, make it hard to focus on the original bar you picked. leading you to want to sample everything, instead of stay with your faithfully never fail security pick. The same pick that will always be there for you when you get sick of  sampling the latest flavors.