When a baby cries, the parents try to quiet him. It’s what parents do. That is, unless the baby is the Doodlebug and the parent is me. I know all parents think their baby is the cutest, but when the Doodlebug gets himself into a pout, it just breaks my heart how adorable he is. Right before he’s about to erupt into a fit, his lower lip protrudes and quivers, like a bad cliche of a crying baby. The pouty face just kills me. But what kills me even more is that I haven’t been able to capture the pouty face on film (oh, okay, on digital chip, but that just doesn’t sound the same). So every time I think the pouty face is about to come, I grab my camera and wait a moment. Which means the Doodlebug generally breaks out into wails of misery. And of course, I miss the pouty face because when the tears start, the pouty face quickly dissolves into openmouthed screams. So I have a crying baby on my hands. And I wait a few moments, because sometimes the pouty face returns, but generally only fleetingly enough to whet my appetite. I do pick him up quickly after that (and I never try this when he’s hungry or wet), but I’m determined to get that pouty face. As they tell me in my mom’s group, no baby has ever died from crying. I, on the other hand, may go deaf.
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