Tragic Balloon Explosion

I’m not sure when the crying is going to stop. But it feel as if it has been happening for months on end. I don’t truly know what is causing it but I have some guesses. I can say with certainty I am getting pretty worn out.

My head has been pounding for a couple of weeks. My shoulders are holding tension and it feels like my muscles are tearing apart. My body is slumped, my posture worse than usual, my confidence non existent. My patience is thin.

I’m trying to hold it together.

Egan must be cutting teeth because he doesn’t stop crying. He will have moments when he forgets. Whatever distracts him from the pain becomes my new best friend. He cries when I hold him. He cries when I set him down. He cries if he unlatches during the night because he would prefer to be nursing constantly until morning. He cries when Paul takes him downstairs so that I can get some sleep.

I’m on edge, you guys. I’m so close to boiling over.

Today something happened that I could have reacted differently to given the circumstances. But I waited to react. Gannon had a punch balloon he had been playing with since first thing this morning. He is delighted when he receives them. And this afternoon, because it is a balloon, it popped. He started crying hysterically. I thought he had severed a limb. When I rushed in to see what happened with my heart in my stomach to see that it was only his balloon I felt a familiar feeling of irritation.

And I took a breath.

Picked up the pieces of the balloon and threw them away before they found their way into Egan’s mouth.

I returned. I hugged my boy and told him how sorry I was about his balloon. I hugged him and told him I knew how much fun he had playing with it and it’s so hard when balloons pop.

And he asked me to stand and hold him. So I did. And he cried for twenty minutes. I thought he had fallen asleep, his legs wrapped around my waist, his arms tucked in front of him, his head on my shoulder. He stopped crying and became the kind of heavy that usually means they have settled into slumber. I checked him with my phone camera.

I could see him trying to check on me, see what I was doing, but still pretend to be asleep. So I started to giggle and he smiled this smile. End of panic over the balloon, back to my happy guy, and though he was still sad, he felt better.

I could see him wanting to check on me, to see what I was doing, but still pretending to be asleep. So I started to giggle and he smiled this smile. End of panic over the balloon, back to my happy guy, and though he was still sad, he felt better.


I could have reacted much different with the additional tension I’ve had from all the crying. I would have. But I’m trying to remember how I want to be, how I want them feel, and how I can make the biggest difference.
Stand back. Breathe. Connect. React with love.

Be better. For me and for them.

2 thoughts on “Tragic Balloon Explosion

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