My cousin wanted to get my brother and I out of the house to let some of the weekly stress roll off. He wanted to see a movie. I put my guilt aside, got a baby sitter and did my best to feel ok with taking care of myself.
It didn't help that Sammy had an awful day, was grumpy, losing his hair and made me feel like jumping in a car and rushing to see him just to tell him "being follicle challenged isn't all that bad (yeah right and the hair for men club makes a profit how?)! I just wanted to hold my kid. I didn't really want to go out, but I love going out with my cousin Dan and brother and we probably needed it more than I'd like to admit.
Movie was great. We get home and I find version 1.5 (Solly) sitting gleefully in my babysitter's lap at 10pm with David and Yael awake upstairs complaining that they couldn't sleep. Solly gives us a big smile and yells "Dan!". He totally snowed the babysitter with the "I'm going to cry a lot until you come get me" routine. Worked like a charm.
I pay the babysitter, had Solly kiss everyone goodnight and go put him back to bed. Solly had different plans. He proceeded to scream on an off for two hours. I sat with him, fed him, tried to sleep on the bed in his room, volunteered him for the French Foreign Legion, and called the nearest zoo to see if they needed any monkey washers. I'd had enough. Parenting on top of worrying about my Sammy all day? That was asking way too much.
Eventually I sat with him in my lap in the dark while talking for thirty minutes. I tried my best to clear my mind of all thoughts. Then I scooped him up, put him down, he complained for a bit and finally settled down for the night.
I'm lucky his memory is short. He woke up as fresh as ever calling "abba, abba" in the sweet morning light and all was forgiven (for the most part).