Tears to cheers

Dylan has been a little mardy of late; it’s understandable though as he’s got more teeth coming through. I know how much my wisdom teeth hurt when they sporadically push through so it must be agony for him. Other than doing our best to alleviate his pain, we’ve found ourselves doing some weird things to cheer him up.

It’s amazing the lengths you’ll go to in order to stop a baby crying. The other day I discovered that acting like I was in a mosh pit at a thrash metal gig made him completely forget his tears and laugh his arse off. It was definitely worth the quite literal pain in the neck.

Throwing myself around the living room like a man possessed aside, another trick that seemed to stop his tantrums in their tracks during the early days was a strange way of holding him, known as the ‘Tiger in the tree’. It’s not a big secret; it’s in most of the baby books, but it’s worthy of a mention as the facial expression it elicits is so funny.

For the unversed, you basically carry your baby around with the side of their head in the crook of your arm and your forearm underneath their chest. You then pass your other arm between their legs and grab on to your other hand and that’s it. Without fail, it seemed to transform a howling, red-faced Dylan into a silent and completely discombobulated Dylan. Magic!

Other odd things that have either amused him or put paid to his woe have included the buzzing of my electric toothbrush, me imitating the buzzing of my electric toothbrush, the fridge – which, Kate very pithily pointed out, chilled him out – and anything that he’s not supposed to play with. I can tell already that he’s going to be a bit of a gadget geek; he’s forever trying to pinch my new phone and loves remote controls.

We’ve given him an obsolete remote to play with, but it’s the Sky+ one that he’s really interested in. He managed to grab it and change Peppa Pig for a gambling channel last week. He then pressed a still-unidentified button which made everything vanish and some random symbol appear in the corner.

Thinking about it, it’s a shame that, when he’s crying at least, he doesn’t have a mute button…


  1. Lol

    Distraction, displacement, discombobulation – who could disagree, least of all Dylan? Unfortunately for all knackered parents, so many others, of the full-of-shit, (often) old-git persuasion, head the queue for their own mute-button facility. If only we could fill their ears with the mardy (if justified) squawks of unsettled innocents – ‘ave it!

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