This record of thoughts is for Manny and the babies, as well as for Sam and I, so that we can remind ourselves in our golden years of all the memories we would otherwise have forgotten. I have tried to keep a handwritten journal since Manny was born, but there is something about pen and paper that causes me to write sentimental slop that I later want to burn. The fact that my recent sentimental slop is for Manny makes it tolerable, but I think this method will be more interesting and the knowledge that someone besides the five of us might possibly read it will keep me in check.
Manny and I had a great morning playing with Max and Echo at the Vances' house. Then we came home and the scream fest began. It ceased for 90 minutes while he napped and then resumed with a bang and didn't really end until dinnertime. There would be pauses for sure, but anytime I tried to put him down or do anything to him, like put on his pants, you would have thought I was dipping his tiny toes in boiling oil. He is in the middle of cutting a molar and it must be very uncomfortable or he is testing my ability to withstand torture. At one point, I started sobbing and wailing too. I don't feel well. I am still getting over the stomach flu and am tired and growing great with child. Then, of course, he screamed louder. It was a low point, but then we passed the Tylenol around and that helped.
As much as I enjoy Manny's colorful use of the sound "da" for every possible thing, I look forward to a day when I can ask him what's wrong and something comes out beside a scream. Even with his lack of holiday cheer, he's still the best valentine we could ever ask for.