Cry It Away, Baby

Last week, I was putting my granddaughter to sleep, and she cried inconsolably for over an hour.  Tonight, I was thinking about how a baby had the determination to cry for such a long time.  I cried three hours a day when I was a baby (my nickname was “Ky-in,” reflecting my slightly older brother’s concerned question to my mother, “Why is she always ky-in so much?).

I was imagining that when I grew older and could no longer complain by crying, I would put post it notes on my brain with really good glue that would state my complaints or say what it was that I was so sad about.  As it turns out, those notes are now attached to my psyche.  How I wish I could just cry them away.