Hi mama,
They call it the witching hour — that mysterious time of day when babies seem to lose their minds for no apparent reason.
For us, it was like clockwork.
Every. Single. Afternoon.
Right before my husband got home, Ollie would transform from a calm, sweet baby to an emotional hurricane. Crying, wriggling, fussy for no reason. My energy? Depleted. My patience? Hanging by a thread. My hair? In a bun that had been redone four times already.
And then… the front door would open.
Daddy walks in — and BAM — baby angel mode activated.
Suddenly Ollie’s all smiles and giggles, like he’s starring in his own feel-good movie. And my husband? He looks at me like, “You okay?” 😳
The worst part?
He never saw the chaos.
Only the peaceful, happy baby that greeted him like a fluffy puppy waiting for its owner.
Meanwhile, I’m standing there, slightly deranged, with milk on my shirt and the wild eyes of someone who’s just survived a tornado. “I swear… five minutes ago he was a different person,” I’d mutter. And my husband, bless him, would smile that "sure, babe" smile.
But if you know, you know.
I honestly couldn’t — and still can’t — complain much about Ollie. He’s an amazing little human. But I swear, his inner gremlin had a watch, and it went off every day right before Daddy got home.
At some point, I stopped fighting it and just accepted it. That weird hour was our reality. Some days I’d babywear him, others I’d bounce on the yoga ball or pace the hallway. I even started counting down the minutes till I heard the car in the driveway. It became part of our routine — mine and Ollie’s little emotional finale before the second adult entered the scene.
So if your baby loses it just before someone else shows up and you’re left looking like the unhinged one… you’re not crazy. It’s not just you. It’s a thing.
It’s the witching hour. And yes, it has a twisted sense of humour.New M
Still counting down to Daddy’s arrival,
Renata (Ollie's mum)💛