On Going Baby Mode
There are those days when you wake up and the sun is shining and you’re well-rested and you just sort of feel like you’re levitating a few inches off the ground and nothing can touch you. Those are the days when your to-do list quivers in its britches, when work tasks shake in their boots, when life itself palpates at the mere sight of you because you’re a bad mother fucker and nothing can stand in your way. Then there are the days when you wake up feeling like an absolute little trash baby.
Sometimes it’s not getting enough sleep. Sometimes it’s getting too much sleep. Sometimes it has nothing to do with sleep but is entirely based upon the fact that you sit all day hunched over like a goblin and eat too many carbs and not enough veggies. Whatever the cause, there are times when you simply enter Baby Mode. When one enters baby mode, life immediately cranks up the difficulty. Things that are normally not a problem, things that don’t usually bother you, things that you’ve never even noticed before become the bane of your existence. Suddenly, the noise your coworker makes as they breathe through their nose is as loud as a jet engine with a bullhorn. The temperature in your room (which has been set to the same number all week) is simultaneously too hot and too cold while also being too dry and too humid. The cabinets are too hard to open, that car’s headlights are too bright, and the sneakers of NBA players on TV are too squeaky!
In an instant, you go from feeling like a full-fledged adult who could handle an audit from the IRS’s meanest agent to an infant who is ready to burst into tears because the lady three tables over is slurping her soup in a way that cuts you down to the deepest part of your soul. When you’re in Baby Mode, it feels like you’re some poor turtle who has tragically lost its shell and is now, for the very first time, exposed to all of the world’s harshest elements.
Going Baby Mode isn’t just a tragedy for you, it’s a tragedy for all of the people who love you because they’ll feel the unadulterated wrath of an unadult. I often go into Baby Mode when I’m stressed out. If I’m driving in a rain storm, for example, whatever temperature the car interior is…that’s the wrong temperature. If there’s music playing, it’s too loud, and if there’s no music playing, it’s too quiet. There’s really no winning when you or a loved one is in Baby Mode.
There are times when Baby Mode has a cure. Sometimes your wife might need a snack. Sometimes your boyfriend just needs some space. Sometimes your best friend is just going through an existential crisis and is regretting every single decision they’ve made in their entire life and there is no antidote but to just sit in Baby Mode for while.
Whatever is going on, eventually, your loved one will exit Baby Mode and if they’re a real keeper, they’ll apologize for all of the baby shit they did.
What about you? What sends you into Baby Mode?
To paraphrase former Secretary of Defense and pompous ass, Donald Rumsfeld, when it comes to things that send me into Baby Mode, I have known knowns and known unknowns. Known knowns can be a sinus headache or a slice off the first tee that goes out of bounds over the fence leading to an 8 to start my round. Known unknowns are, well, unknown. But, man, when those days come, my meditation technique is still not good enough to put a dent in the chain mail suit of whiny-ness I clank around in. Going to bed and waiting for a new day is usually the only treatment. Although occasionally the laughter of children, the smile of a loved one or a bottle of very nice wine and some creamy brie can help.
Severe hunger and lack of sleep activates Baby Mode for me because a 1-year old would scoff at my problem-solving and communication skills whenever I find myself in one of those two hells.