After nearly two weeks with the brat, I’ve come to see him as existing in only one of two states:

• cute: when he is sleeping, fidgeting with himself: generally being quiet

• funny: when he’s yelling (hungry), screaming (dirty), enraged (being bathed), crying in the style of a machine-gun or goat (an extension of the prior techniques): generally being noisy

You might think that such an artificially positive view is merely a result of my sleep deprivation, and you might be right, except that you forget that otherwise:

• one might go a little nuts trying to calm down a little annoying screaming thing that seems not to appreciate any of the standard reliefs (diaper changing, feeding, burping, cuddling)

• all the extra coffee dosages I take to try to be productive would reinforce anxiousness rather than aloof gaiety

I know what you’re thinking. You can’t help but see the image of me standing over Eric, giggling as he shakes with righteous anger, as perhaps a little mean. But I call it a temporary coping strategy. If I see a parent on the street with a baby, and I uncharacteristically remark how cute he is, and she says “Oh yes, and sometimes he’s funny too!”, I’ll say “I know exactly what you mean.” and walk away.