Eli is teething. He has his front teeth, and now he’s growing molars, which would be entirely sensible except that he hasn’t yet grown any of the teeth that go between front teeth and molars. So there’s that.
Eli is in love with this book. It’s Sandra Boynton’s Moo, Baa, La La La. He will sign for us (me) to read it over and over and over and over. Same story, eight times in a row? Twelve times? Fifteen? He’s happy.
This is what Eli does when he’s teething: He doesn’t sleep well. He tries to bite Dane and I more than usual.
Here’s what he doesn’t do: drool, chew on things, [insert any other typical teething behavior here].
Here’s what I do when I don’t have enough sleep because Eli is teething: stare off into space at random intervals; forget to do things of dubious import, like ‘make dinner’; wonder why we are not sleeping enough; continue to not think of teething as a possible cause; be cranky; try not to be cranky; feel guilty about failing to not be cranky; wonder why the baby just bit my shoulder for the eighteenth time today.
Runner-up favorites: Peek-a-Who and Snuggle Puppy. You know you're a beloved book when your cover is halfway chewed off.
But here is what has really been troubling me: one of our kids grew their canines before all their other teeth. For a few weeks, we had a little baby with pointy fangs and no front teeth.
And I cannot remember for certain who it was.
My thought process goes something like: I could look it up (I thought it was Sadie, but maybe not?) because I do write these things down (not Audrey?) but I don’t know (not Abigail, because she was the first) where all that written-down stuff is (I don’t think it was Owen) because it hasn’t been unpacked since (though it could have been Owen) we moved. Eleven months ago.
And then I am interrupted by the three-year-old hollering, “Mom? Eli won’t share the scissors.”
This is when I realize I HAVE RATHER MORE IMPORTANT THINGS TO BE CONCERNED WITH THAN WHO GREW WHICH TEETH WHEN. Which may be related to why I don’t remember which of my beloved offspring was the vampire baby in the first place. Just a thought.
No, none of these pictures have anything to do with this post, why do you ask?
{ 12 comments… read them below or add one }
over tired. such an unfortunate state ~ leading to no end of random wonderings. especially if it happens to be the middle of the night!
Yes, exactly!
LOL. Love it. I only have two kids but they’re both girls and they look alike. Years from now, I have a feeling I will be in the same predicament.
There are worse predicaments to be in, for sure.
Ah, teething. And not sleeping. And scissors. Such familiarity here. Even the books, I dare say! Hang in there. Dinner can be nachos. At least that’s what my sister-in-law taught me. (My savior!)
Dinner turned out to be pizza on store-bought pizza dough. (We ran out of bread flour!) Not much more involved than nachos.
I think I will use this blog post as an example of stream-of-consciousness when I teach American Lit. in the spring. And, by the way, that’s exactly how my mind works except I don’t even have the excuse of five children or a teething baby. So yeah.
But you, my dear, have a pet chinchilla, and I really think that trumps all. And look at how you’re lesson planning months ahead of time! And multitasking! (Blog reading + pretend lesson planning = multitasking, right? Oh yes!)
I suppose they tell you to write crap down because there’s no way you can remember it when your brain lives in a constant state of foggy exhaustion … but I’ve never been one to listen. Therefore, I can’t remember much of that stuff for my TWO kids. I can’t image having to remember for so many. That you remember the vampire teeth at all is pretty good.
Constant. state. foggy. exhaustion. YES. THIS.
Both of my little boys had fangs. This time last year in fact.
That seems easier to remember. Or… hard to forget.