When Isaac, my mellowest infant so far, woke from one of his 18 naps today, I smiled as I listened to his mewling little cry. If I could put words in his mouth, I think he would have been saying:
“Excuse me, could someone please help me?"
His sister, the ruler of the house? Her infant cry was more like:
"Come GET me! I'm AWAKE! How DARE you leave me in here! COME! GET! ME! NOW!”
And then there was our firstborn, the little spaz:
“OH. MY. GAAAAWD! I AM DYING! DYING! THE TORTURE! I’ve been ABANDONED! HELP!
It’s funny, their personalities haven't changed much.
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