This teething thing, man. It is really throwing me for a loop. Or taking the wind out of my sails. Or something. I am too tired to summon the correct metaphor. She got two teeth back at Thanksgiving, and I thought to myself, “Self, this teething thing is a piece of cake! I don’t know what everyone else complains about. A little drool, a few slightly crabby days — Ellie is a champion teether and we have this teething thing licked!” However, now she seems to be working on SIX TEETH all at once and I feel like it has been going on for the past seventeen years. She won’t let me look in her mouth (I invented a game called Upside Down / Rightside Up specifically for that purpose, but she seems to have caught on to me and now closes her mouth pretty tight even when flipped upside down) so I don’t really know for sure what’s going on in there, but I think three of the six have broken through, so we’re halfway there! Woooo! (Not wooo.) She was up one (1) zillion times last night, and for the first time in months I decided to have a nap while she was napping, but was woken up after five minutes by Norton wandering around the house, meowing pitifully about how tragic his life is. Then the phone rang, and it was a telemarketer calling all the way from India to see if we wanted to subscribe to our local newspaper, which makes very little sense on several levels, but I politely declined rather than saying what I wanted to say, namely that their paper is lousy with typos and I wouldn’t read it if THEY paid ME to. Now I’m sitting huddled at the computer, drinking tea resentfully from a mug that says “love the moment” on its side and googling recipes for Cat a l’Orange. I think these are the days that make you panic a little bit when the nostalgic elderly in line at the grocery stores tell you they’re the best ones of your life.
Mina just had six teeth break through on top too, but I never noticed any crankiness! I don’t know how the hell I ended up with such a mellow baby. I think this means she’s going to be a horrible surly teenager, and it will start around age 6.
Oh Lord. I think I would have thrown that mug across the room. Or, at least, you know, sipped from it VERY ANGRILY.
Have you read this article? http://www.huffingtonpost.com/glennon-melton/dont-carpe-diem_b_1206346.html
So well said! Sometimes it feels pretty impossible to ‘love the moment’ when the moment involves a miserable baby and was preceded by a night with not nearly enough sleep in it.
Mo Pie — Ellie is normally the world’s mellowest baby (she gets that personality from her dad) but for some reason the teething is causing her some serious trouble. But mellow baby solidarity! It is pretty awesome.
Anna — I have read that article and I quite enjoyed it. I do love my mug, too, because it was a birthday gift from my friend Bethany, who likes to support my Mug Acquiring Habit. The “love the moment” sentiment is in all lower case like that, so it’s just gently encouraging, rather than aggressive, which is exactly how I like my mug sentiments. I think maybe it was just a poor choice for that particular morning.
Haha I read this a couple of days ago and didn’t even remember I had given you the mug. Yeah, in the moment I might have voted “throw the mug” too. Perha
(Sorry, baby pressed “Submit”).
Perhaps the mug should have been inscribed with “Feel any way you want about the moment. Just try to survive it.” Ah, how the perspective changes with kids.
I have also read the Huffington article and loved it, as it gives some validation for the “what was I thinking??” moments in life and my feelings toward the people who suggest I should cherish them.