It is well-known that Will is often a perfect little angel when we are visiting with friends and family. But when I’m home alone with him, he cries all day, no matter what I do. I get the feeling that no one believes me. That I’m just being Melissa, a crazy, overreactive bitch who doesn't handle things well and is a vegan just because she wants to be difficult.
A couple weeks ago, we got a package delivered via Fed-Ex. Will was in the midst of an endless crying bout when the doorbell rang. Haggard, red-eyed, and wearing baby-puke-stained pajamas, I answered the door. The Fed-Ex man winced as he heard the crying from within. “I’m sorry, did I cause that?” he gestured towards Will. “Oh, no, he’s been crying all day,” I assured him. The Fed-Ex man looked sympathetic. As I signed for the package, he asked me, “How’s it going?” as though we were old friends. “Just fine,” I said. Then, “No, not really,” as my eyes welled over. The Fed-Ex man seemed genuinely concerned, and he stayed just a few moments longer, offering a few encouraging words and assuring me that it would soon be better. Then as he hurried back to his delivery truck, I sighed and thought, well, at least the Fed-Ex man believes me.
No more advice, please. I've tried everything and nothing works.
