GM

“WAAAAAAA,” screams GM. GM stands for XXXXXX, aka, Sister or Sister Bear. What you call her often depends on how she is behaving. Today she is behaving badly. “WAAAAAA,” she blares. We all stand around not knowing what to do with a one and a half year old whose mother just went shopping. You can tell she misses her mother because she is going absolutely berserk.

We have no idea what to do so we pick her up, but she just arches her back, rears her head and screams even louder. Next we gave her a bottle, which she promptly throws across the room. We try rocking her but she just squirms and increases the volume. NOTHING IS WORKING!

Finally I stick her in her crib. I figure she won’t like that and I am right. She stands holding onto the rounded top edge of the crib, tears tumbling down her face. Separation anxiety. A thought strikes me: I can rescue her. I leaned down and gently pick her up holding her close. Our heads touch. She takes two deep breaths and after a while calms down. Together we move into the family room where everyone is watching the Incredibles. After a few minutes of hugging I try sitting down. Mistake. She starts crying all over again. So I stand for a long while, watching TV, hugging, snuggling, touching faces. Life is good again.

After her mother comes home, with an Arizona moon peeking into her window, she goes to sleep as calm and happy as a kitten.