Shriek and Peek

When Jed was a tiny babe, people often commented on his cute little cry. What an angel! Well, those days have passed. No longer does my adorable infant gaze up at me with his muted kittenish calls for love. No, at last Jed has discovered... his lungs.

*Shriek!!* he laughs as his daddy munches on his belly. *Shriek!!* when he wants some num-nums. *Shriek!!!!* an ear-splitting wail when he wakes up from a nap, or even worse from a sound sleep at 1:45 AM. *Shriek!!!!!* comes the call of boredom from the kitchen floor. *Shriek!* when he notices his toes.

Yesterday was a regular shriek-fest. Apparently, this loud, grating, squealing call is so fascinating, and effective, that he's permanently abandoned any other method of communication. At my wits end, I realized that the obvious and easy solution--to stick a breast in his mouth--was hardly a positive long-term answer. Don't want to walk around half-naked for the rest of his infant-hood. So we tried a few other things. Distractions, swinging, rocking, toys, singing quiet songs, ignoring, and, um, the recommended "look him squarely in the eye and give a solid NO." All with varying levels of effectiveness.

He's six months old. Cause and effect is still only just starting to sink in! How can one possibly expect to discipline a child developmentally equivalent to a goldfish?

Fortunately, between squawks, squeals, and shrieks, he was really adorable. Lots and lots and LOTS of rolling about during the times I "ignored" him. He can really move these days!

At one point, I was laying on the bed crocheting (our bedroom is the only air-conditioned part of the house.) He whined and moaned about, intermittently shrieking, while I sang at him. He rolled back and forth, finally landing on his tummy and looking at the mirrored closet next to the bed. When he looked up, he could see my face in the mirror. A little stuffed frog lay between him and the mirror, so he could put his face down and "hide" behind it. He pushed himself up and looked in the mirror at me. "Peek-a-boo!" I squealed back at him. A huge, gummy smile lit of his face and his eyes got wide. Giggling, he fell down into the quilt, hiding from me. I covered my eyes. A few seconds later, he lifted up again and looked at me, already anticipating his new-found game. "Peek!" A delighted smile, and then he buried his head in the bed behind the frog. I covered my eyes again, peeking through to see when he raised up again. "Peek-a-boo!" We played Jed's game again and again and again, probably more than fifty times, and it was more fun every single time! Finally, exhausted, he started to cry and I settled him down for a nap. But what a jolly time we had!