Belle came alive during today's freak June rainstorm. We'd successfully submitted a stool sample for a research study at the hospital, had lunch and even collected a few things from a community boutique when Belle began shrieking at the bigger kids. Aware we were violating the noise level according to posted signs, I worked feverishly to coax Belle out of there. Belle only ran away and shrieked louder, completely defiant and fiercely independent. I couldn't breastfeed her, put shoes on her or tuck her into the ring sling. I eventually managed to secure Belle into the sling, sure we could wait out the storm at a coffee house across the street. The coffee house quickly proved too stimulating. Belle started climbing the sofa when I wouldn't let her push a chair across the dining room. We were in hipster Oakland, not family friendly Alameda. I wasn't certain if we could be curious or make noise midst the notebooks and novels. I balanced Belle and my coffee outside in the rain until I found a dry, hidden spot outside to wrap Belle back into the sling. Belle fell asleep about as soon as we started nursing on the bus ride home. Why couldn't she have slept at the coffeehouse?
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