Ciela does not sleep

How many works of classic literature must I read before I learn that hubris does not please the gods.

So after spouting off about how perfect our little baby is, and how wonderfully she slept, and that our little family is better than any other little family because we are well-read, common-sensical, and exceptionally well-suited to parenting, the wax started to melt and the feathers dissipated.

Last night, I finally went to bed about 3:30 am, my little splash thoroughly drowned out by the cries of a 4 day old child. The gods laughed while I wept.

Before last night, I thought it nearly infathomable that anyone could inadvertently kill a baby by shaking it out of frustration. When I read or heard about such incidents, I chalked it up to pathetic lack of education, calculated violence, or even mere evil.

Now, I realize that edge beyond reason is much closer than any of us like to think. Twice I had to leave the room in order to regroup. I can't imagine any scenario more frustrating than being put in charge of a helpless person, have that person in great distress and unable to communicate that distress. It takes away all your recourses to rational thinking. Indeed, I think that may be at the heart of the violent uprising that it occasionally leads to. When every turn of reason is frustrated by an unthinking, unrelenting, monolithic wall of screaming, we as humans seem programed to resort to our only other option: mindless fury.

Who knew parenting would have such a dark side so soon. Oh, I figured there would be the sadistic mind-games of adolescence, the devastating disappointment of the mid-adult years, the empty abandonment at the end of life. But I thought there would be endless amazement at her development as a newly sentient being; not amazement at her sheer endurance.

But then she finally ate, finally slept, the sun finally rose, and she looked calm in the morning light.

But untrustworthy.