Little Beans First Word – Aaarrrgghhh! Yeppers, our almost six month old has so far, in her tiny little life, made screaming her favourite pastime. From screaming at Momma Bear who looks on blankly thinking “Frick what’s this all about then?”, to Little Miss who has taken on a parental roll and chastises the little pet for shouting so loudly which of course makes her shout louder. Soon enough the baby and the four year old are having a shouting contest with a poor, worn out, desperate to escape the house, Momma who’s stuck in the middle not knowing what to do. But it’s a phase, right? She’s leaping, right? By Christmas the shouting will be cute melodic baby gurgles, right? Right? *insert worried Momma emoji!*
But sure, would you look at the innocence of Little Bean as she ploughs into a mushy banana for the first time – all aghast and a-wonder at such a taste sensation. Surely such a tiny thing couldn’t make a blistering, earth shattering noise that sends vibrations through your skull into your brain, with sharp tingles veering out into every nerve ending in your body? Of course not. Sure, don’t baby’s make goo-goo, ga-ga noises with cute little giggles the whole time?
I wish! My head hurts!
I know Little Bean likes the sound of her own voice and is testing her little lungs. “How high, how loud, how shrill can I go?” she thinks as she buries her head into her little dolly and screams as though she’s an extra in Platoon or about to rip the smiling dolls head clean off of it’s fabric shoulders.
I’m at my wits end but it’s a phase, and that I will keep repeating to myself. It’s not easy though on nights when B walks in the door after a savage day at work, thumping headache, worn out and exhausted, to a gurgling Little Bean who smiles happily at seeing Papa Bear again and then suddenly shrieks! I swear it isn’t passed midnight but 6pm to 7pm is definitely the witching hour. And I swear I didn’t dowse her with water but it’s like a scene from Gremlins with the sudden flip of a switch and, frick, can she be scary! Her little eyes widen, her forehead furrows as much as a baby’s forehead can furrow and her little body tenses. Arrrgghh!
Jesus, Mary and Holy Saint Joseph! She brings out the 1950s Momma in me and I’m reaching for the holy water. But my child is not possessed. No, there is no need for an exorcism. This sweet, tiny little bundle is learning. She’s growing. She’s practising. And she’s testing – both me and her! Testing her lungs and my patience but patient I have to be because there is no telling a six month old to be quiet. You can’t bribe a baby with TV or sweets. If she wants to shout the house down and yell out to the Polar Bear population on the North Pole so be it and oh boy, will she try.
So, if you see me out and about with Little Bean and you hear a blood curdling scream coming from my direction, know that I am not torturing my child, I have not forgotten to feed my child, I have not abandoned her nor disciplined her in any way. She’s a screamer and has been for quite a few months now. Let her scream I say, cos I sure can’t stop her! Pass the paracetamol.
But considering that this time last year we thought we were on the verge of losing her at ten weeks pregnant, she has earned the right to shout! Let the world know you’re here Little Bean ♡