The Mystery Scream

When the twins cry, I usually know the reason and how to calm them. Not that I’m some sort of baby whisperer specially attuned to my children’s needs; I just know that they’re young enough to have a limited list of things that make them cry, and I can usually find the correct answer by looking at context. If someone cries after being awake for a while, he’s probably tired and wants to sleep. If someone cries after waking from a nap, he’s probably hungry and wants to eat. If someone cries while Abbie is nearby, he’s probably hurting after Abbie just scratched him and she needs sent to her room. Today though, both of the twins went into wild screaming fits that left me screaming in frustration trying to figure out why.

Ian went first, going into a screaming fit around 2pm. 2pm is supposed to be in the middle of one of their naps. Not just any nap either, but their best nap of the day; the two-and-a-half hour nap that lets me nap, exercise, shower, and otherwise act like I’m a college student with a break between my noon poly sci class and my 3pm hacky sack game. 2pm is the time when I transition from the bed to the stairclimber, and someone will often wake up to complain at this time. It’s almost my alarm clock, which sends me into fits when I wake from my nap at 2:15, threatening to send my entire day off schedule. Sometimes Abbie helps me by banging around her room instead of taking her afternoon nap, and sends something (hopefully not her body) crashing to the floor at 2pm to wake me.

When someone wakes at 2pm, I ignore him at first, and he usually goes back to sleep quickly. If the complaining persists, I give him a pacifier and go exercise. On rare occasions I’ll have to pause the stairclimber to reinsert the pacifier once or twice, but they always resume sleeping within a few minutes. Except today. Ian stayed awake through several pacifier reinsertions for ten, 20, and even 30 minutes. After that Ellie, who was home and trying to nap after a rough night, swooped him into our bed hoping at least one of them would get some sleep. Ian stayed awake for an hour until I stepped out of the shower for their 3pm feeding. The pacifier kept him calm, but he constantly threatened to spit it out, forcing Ellie to stay vigilant and, unfortunately, awake.

I have no idea what got into him. He’s had similar spells at this time before, but not for several weeks. My best guess is he was hungry early, possibly spurred on by his refusal to eat more than three ounces at last two feedings.* Tory, always trying to one-up his brother, took mystery screaming to a new level a few hours later.

We spent tonight at a pizza party from Ellie’s employer. It was held in the park near our home, and had several of Ellie’s coworkers who rarely get to see the twins. The boys spent most of the night being passed from woman to woman, from coworker to coworker’s wife. They all marveled at the boys, how cute they were, how calm they were, how spitty they were. Suddenly Tory snapped in the arms of a coworker’s wife; she was holding him, gently swaying him back and forth when he abruptly tensed his every muscle, including the ones that control breathing. He turned several shades of red, each more furious than the last, before inhaling again. He followed that with the most irate screaming fit I’ve ever heard him unleash, worse than any fit related to a visit to the pediatrician’s office. It was close to the bedtime routine at that point, so we all went home. I gave Abbie her scheduled bath and readied everyone’s bedtime feeding while Ellie kept Tory calm for about 20 minutes. The pacifier again mostly worked, though he immediately suffered a meltdown the instant he lost suction. It wasn’t until a couple ounces of milk filled his belly that he endured his existence without screaming.

Once again, I have no idea what set him off. My best guess is he was overstimulated after being passed like a hacky sack for an hour, but it was still odd that he instantly changed from calm to a 14-pound ball of fury. I can’t wait until they’re old enough to tell me what upset them. I’m still waiting for Abbie to reach this point. At least I know I can always calm her with Goldfish.

* For comparison, Ian usually takes at least four ounces per feeding, and Tory engorges himself on close to six.