annoying baby - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Looking back, our baby was simply doing what she needed to do, reacting to internal feelings and external sensations we couldn't feel. We were driven right passed our limits at times, our actions only contained by the knowledge that deep down we loved her. Corey threw her down onto the bed one time, her cries stopped for an instant and then intensified as she freaked right out. He left the house that night and didn't come back for three days. If it wasn't for our friends taking her on long walks as often as they could I don't think we'd have made it. One of us would be incarcerated, maybe both. Now she's five years old and a bonnie angel; its as if she cried out all her anger in her infancy. She's the kindest kid at daycare and sharp as a whip at school. Truthfully she was never an annoying baby, she was just a baby and it was us that became annoyed.
Our bundle of joy screamed night and day. There wasn't a single hour in twenty four that wasn't marred by her cries. It took every ounce of love we felt for her on the day she as born to see us through those long weeks. Our minds had ceased to function as they did before and we only saw one another at "shift change." I took a couple of hours sleep in the day at Cassandra's place, Mike slept nights at his mothers just so he could put in a days work at the plant come morning time. If that time taught me anything at all it is of the tenacity of love, that it endures and protects. Without it I can't think how we would have come through as a family.
To strangers she is an annoying baby, to me she is the light of my life, a miracle from God and a gift. She cries like she's in pain for so many different reasons, but I can't lock her up in the house, never to feel the warmth of spring sun. Everywhere we go the commuters, the shoppers, the mom's who ought to know better, shoot us opinionated looks. Hardly a person in a thousand will stop to speak to us and even then the "advice" is hardly welcome. If they must engage with me then some understanding would be nice, some words of encouragement, a small display of empathy. She's a baby, she's annoying, but she's special too.
Through the quiet of the restaurant, dominating the gentle orchestra music, came the cries of a baby. Every eye widened and more than one head turned, the food suddenly less appetizing. Every smile became a tense reflection of what it had been and conversations faltered. The crying became more intense, more fractious, until a few moments later it stopped entirely. The hungry mouth had been reacquainted with the breast of its mother and now all could eat in peace.
I heard a loud whaling sound piercing through the walls. It was hard to believe it came from such a tiny creature, I wanted to go back to sleep and ignore it but it was impossible. It sounded like the screeching of an angry cat, only growing harsher and louder as I walked to stop the wailing.
I looked down at her balled up red face, eyes frantically searching the room for my familiar face, and when her eyes landed on me the crying diminished and she giggled, as if waking me up in the middle of the night was a joke. I sighed and walked out of the room into my own.
I closed my eyes to get some well deserved sleep, but once I did it started again. I buried my head into my pillow. What an annoying baby, I groaned.
My baby brother's face was turning purple with rage. He struggled to squirm out of my arms, waving his fat fists. One caught me square in the nose. I clutched my nose with one hand and kept a firm grip on his middle with the other. I staggered toward his crib, but I could hardly walk, as he was thrashing and wriggling like a particularly chubby eel. The entire time his screeching filled the room like the track to a horror movie for people who didn't mind hearing loss. I wished I could drop the baby & shield my ears from the siren wail, but I didn't think he'd take kindly to that either.
"You--are taking--a nap--and that's--final," I said through clenched teeth.
Even though there was no plausible way he could understand me, I swear his cries got louder at the word "nap."
My eight month old granddaughter was sound asleep once again. I wasn't too keen on the idea of putting a dummy in her mouth, but had to admit that in this instance my daughter-in-law was right, for she just refused to settle down without one. Looking at her now, it was hard to believe how such an adorable little thing, could wail so.
The night light was on, and I crept silently across the room and out of the door, pulling it slightly to, behind me.
Halfway down the stairs, and the wailing kicked off once more. She'd thrown her dummy out of the cot yet again, and wouldn't stop screaming now, until I'd gone back in to retrieve it.
What an annoying baby.
The train had barely pulled from the station when a baby began to cry. On the late train there would have been room to move but this was clocking off time for all the city workers. Every haggard face bore a "Why me?" look, the sound grating their exhaustion deeper into their bones, beginning migraines they just didn't need. Rainer plugged in his headphones and started soothing music, his head tilted toward the window and his mind bent on escape.