This morning when I woke up it was (and still is) an absolutely beautiful, sunny day. I decided that this afternoon I would put Ruby in the stroller and go for a nice long walk to the grocery store and buy our veggies and healthy food for the week. I would kill a few birds with one stone by getting in some good exercise, picking up some healthy groceries and also getting out and soaking up some of that glorious sunshine.
And then Ruby started having a bad day. For the second day in a row at about noon, she turned super fussy and cranky and was crying and actually throwing a fit (kicking her legs and trying to punch me while yelling at the top of her lungs). Pleasant. And it seemed that there was nothing on earth I could do to console her. Nothing. And it was upsetting me. Frustrating me.
After I had tried absolutely everything I could think of to make her happy, I just set her in her swing and let her lose her little baby mind. And she screamed! And cried! And kicked and waved her little arms around and made horrible, pissed-off faces! And she screamed and cried and screamed some more! And I sat and cried and ripped at my hair.
And then she just stopped.
She had cried herself to sleep.
Dear god, did I just Ferber her? Because I hadn't planned on ever doing that....
And so I've decided to forgo my plans for a long walk and getting the groceries and have decided that I will retreat to my sunny patio with a cup of coffee and the new 'Style at Home' magazine while Ruby sleeps off her tantrum.
I know my limits and they have been reached today.