How ‘Bout Them Teeth?

Cooper was up again nearly all night, even loaded up with Motrin and Orajel, and I finally left him to cry it out at 5 am so I could at least get an hour or two of sleep.   The first time I got up with him, as soon as I walked into the room, his shrieks subsided and he started talking to me, “Daba daba DA!” and on and on, as if to say, “Oh Most Glorious Mama, I am so sorry to get you out of bed, but my teeth hurt!   Warm milk, please.”   I cuddled him and nursed him back to sleep.   The second time, two hours later, I gave him more motrin and walked him a little, all the while he kept on a steady chatter of his woes: “DA da da da da BADA!”   The third time, again two hours later, I was a little less charmed and patted him on the head (after checking his diaper, just to make sure) and left the room ,closed the door and turned off the baby monitor.   Fortunately for Kenny, he was already sleeping in my bed, since Casey was out of town, and at least he was spared the audio carnage.

When I was finally dragged out of bed a few hours later by a wide awake Kenny, I realized that every muscle in my body ached.   It wasn’t until I had the first cup of coffee in me that I realized that it wasn’t just the sleepless night.

(Wait.   If you are a male colleague or friend of my husband’s checking in, the next paragraph is about my “girls” – and not the happy Hooters kind, but the painful nursing kind.   Skip to the paragraph that starts off, “It got rougher…”

Yep, it was mastitis – my first bout since having Cooper, but I had it often enough nursing Kenny that I know it.   Ouch.   Waaaaaah.   No tylenol for me, though, I decided to tough through the pain.   I’m not so smart sometimes.   Ok, so let’s just say that the day started rough.

It got rougher when I made breakfast, and Kenny decided that mine looked better than his and he ate it.   This after trying for ten minutes to talk him into letting me make him  a sunny side up egg like I was having, and him refusing and begging for scrambled instead.   Told you so.

Then he did just about everything he could think of to get on my nerves – climbing over the back of the couch, walking around with his sippy cup held between his front teeth – all things that I’ve harped over and forbidden.   Finally I spanked him (something I’ve done so infrequently he was more surprised than pained) and thought that the day could only go uphill.

Wrong.   The forecast was gloomy – 48 and raining – and this after several warm sunny days, making it impossible to get outside.   That is, until I remembered that I had to go feed my friend’s cat.   Soaked, we returned 45 minutes later and I was determined to get it right the rest of the day.   Lunch:   Good.   Nap for Cooper:   Didn’t happen.   Quiet time for Kenny: Yeah, right.

The sun broke out and 3 and I hustled everyone into warm clothes and hats and we set out to take the dogs for a walk.   We were exactly one mile from our house when the thunder boomed and the rain started to pour.   I started running, Kenny and Cooper started laughing and crying at the same time and we made it to our door ten minutes later, soaked and miffed.   And then the sun came out again.   Thanks.   Yeah.   Nice.

But then the rain started again a minute later, so I was somewhat vindicated.   Anyway, the antsy-ness increased 100 fold, Cooper still wouldn’t nap and Kenny became Dennis the Menace.     Then Dudley chewed up a gift that my grandma had made for him, a little wooden toy, and he lost it completely.   So did Cooper, though I don’t think he knew why he was crying at that point.    

We somehow made it through dinner and books and then it was there – the Holy Grail of a really bad day: Bed Time.   Finally.    They both fell  asleep so fast I barely had time to say, “Good night; I love you…”

Now I sit exhausted and still in pain.   I was ready to write through it all and find some humor in it, but that was before I decided to catch up on the day at  CNN.com.   I read an article about how moms of young children are at high risk for serious internet addiction, referencing “Mommy Blogs” in particular as a “drug” of sorts to escape from the reality of life.    Never mind.   I needed to go to bed anyway.