That’s the sound we make the next morning after taking care of Zane in the middle of the night. Thankfully he does it much less frequently, sometimes going two weeks without an incident, but that sure isn’t much consolation when you are trying to calm him at 1 or 2 or 3 in the morning with your brain only half awake.

Last night could have been a couple of things. Of course there’s the usual suspects: a mouth full of angry teeth jostling to cut through gums and rearrange the landscape of jawline. All without the benefit of novocaine. He also ripped off part of a thumb nail earlier in the evening. The nail has been kind of weird for a few weeks, as if maybe he smashed the thumb at some point (lessee, who likes opening and closing drawers??) and the smashed nail was slowly growing out. At the baby get together last night one of the moms pointed out that Zane was bleeding. Sure enough, the nail pieces had finally delaminated and he must have caught the top layer on something and ripped it partially off. It didn’t seem to bother him at all. Even when we got home, put a little alcohol on it and snipped off the hunk of nail he merely looked on disinterested. Still, there’s some exposed flesh and a little bit of jagged nail edge left that he could have caught on something while sleeping. Hard to say.

So, it’s 1am and he’s crying like there’s no tomorrow (nobody pointing out that it WAS tomorrow). I get up to help Faith, we go in to see kitty and he stops. The problem is that he’s awake and any move towards his bedroom sets him off again. We go outside to look at the moon and stars (“Dat!”), we go downstairs to take in the cooler air and darkness (“Dat!”), we visit the kitty a few more times (“Dat, dat, dat!”) and then finally sneak back into his bedroom with a bottle of milk and some toy to occupy his mind. Milk consumed it’s time to work him into his crib and back towards sleep. This must be what it’s like to deal with old, sweaty dynamite: one false move and it’s all over. Don’t make a sudden move towards the door, gentle strokes of his hair, reassuring hand on the back, try to get him facing away from the door so when you do sneak out it’s not within his line of sight. Careful. Careful. Quiet. RUN FOR IT!