Abby the screamer
I was just talking to my sister about Abby and her newly discovered talent... SCREAMING. Dawn asked me if she was squealing or screaming. I laughed. I suppose it's her way of squealing but she does it to the extreme.
It's amazing how different things are now. Faith has always been so quiet. She makes sounds and talks when someone is playing with her or during her physical therapy sessions but the rest of the time she's quiet. She'll lay in her crib or sit in her rocking chair quiet as a mouse without a care in the world. Occasionally she'll let out little sounds to let me know that she knows I'm there. Sometimes she'll sneak a smile when she hears someone. Mostly though, she's quiet. She doesn't have to make noise to be noticed. Her life and the fact that she is still here speaks louder than any words or sounds that she could ever hope to say or make. With a testimony like hers, who needs to be loud vocally?
Then along came Abby. I am suddenly aware that someone at some point installed tornado warning siren inside the house. She is discovering her voice and has learned she can sing Opera! The peace and quiet is shattered into a million pieces once she's awake. The simple things don't entertain her anymore. A new activity is only fun and exciting for the first ninety seconds and then it somehow morphs into a form of torture that sends Abby into a screaming frenzy. Mommy comes to the rescue and plays with her until all is well again and then moves her to a new spot, maybe the swing. Abby grins with delight. She loves her swing. It moves, it plays music, there are animals that dance in a circle above her head and mommy is always thoughtful enough to set a few toys in her lap. Ahhh, this is so much nicer than the floor, she's happy here! I return to the kitchen to load the dishwasher. I can hear her gabbing and sqealing with pleasure at her new surroundings and activities. I put two coffee mugs, a plate and one spoon into the dishwasher and I'm about to grab another plate when suddenly time runs out and Abby is in a panic. As I walk into the living room she's crying her eyes out and screaming at the top of her lungs. I don't know what's wrong but by the panic in her voice the toucan on the mobile must have attacked her. Or maybe the monkey bit her. The toys that had sat on her lap have suddenly come to life and leaped from the swing to escape the enraged human who was beating them on the tray and trying to bite their heads off. They are safe now having flown through the air and landed on the carpet, out of reach! Something horrible happened in that swing because it has now morphed itself into a torture chair. It's time for Faith to eat but first I have to find a safe place for Abby who's now convinced that all of her activity centers and toys are out to get her and she must find a way to stay away from them. The only safe place where she can smile and laugh? Mommy's lap, but I'm getting "sissy" ready to eat. Abby looks around, her eyes wide in panic but quiet staring at me as if to whisper "mommy! hurry up! My swing is going to swallow me up. I have to get out of here!" A few minues later as I start the feeding pump for Faith, Abby's pleading whispers to me to rescue her have now turned into sheer panic again and her eyes seem as though they might just pop out of her head if I don't rescue her from the jungle right this second!!!
I swoop her up to safety and she thanks me with a smile from ear to ear. She looks back at her swing and furrows her brow as if to say "HA! My mommy turn your power button OFF!!! You can't get me now!" We'll play for a while, maybe 10 minutes or so then the frenzy will return; this time even mommy's arms or lap won't help. We'll have to break out the heavy artillary....the bottle, a force to be reckoned with!! No one, not even Abby can fight the effects of a warm bottle, the glider, mommy's arms, and the sound of mommy's "shh-shh-ssshhh".
Maybe after that I can load the dishwasher and eat lunch. By the time that's done she'll be awake again and the battle will once again be underway!
