Satan Created Teething

Yesterday and today have been lovely. Really.

On Sunday, Braden kept acting intensely clingy and cranky. You’d have thought someone had convinced him that if he acted as much like he was my ill-tempered, conjoined twin as was humanly possible, he’d win a bale of cotton candy. After several situations in which he melted down in a manner unlike him, I decided he must be having a teething session.

That afternoon, he picked up a toy, walked into the kitchen, and suddenly screamed, crumpling to the floor. He pushed his head into the linoleum and just cried. I was bewildered, and ran to get him. I assumed he was either in the process of sprouting horns, or must have just experienced some gum cutting. I checked his forehead, and saw nothing, so I decided it was the teething, and gave him some Acetaminophen.

At dinner that night, while he was opening wide for some Braden Burgers, I saw the new tooth. His lower, right lateral incisor had finally made an appearance. About time.

At bedtime, I gave him some Ibuprofen. He slept like a rock last night. Slept an hour later in the morning than usual, even. This behavior is a sign of the apocalypse. Or his body is going through a major overhaul. Considering all the talking he’s been doing lately, and the teething, it could be the latter.

Nah… I’m still thinking apocalypse.

Today was EVEN BETTER than yesterday. I thought (IDIOT.IDIOT.IDIOT) that he’d be much better today, since the tooth had broken the surface yesterday, and he’d had a lovely night of sleep.

HAHAHA!

I’m suspecting that the lower, right lateral incisor is causing him a lot of extra pain coming up, AND he’s also working on a lower, left cuspid. (I had to do some examining to come to this conclusion, which Braden thoroughly enjoyed. I almost had to use the Jaws of Life just to get in there.)

So, today, Braden basically decided that if he wasn’t at least 3 inches inside my butthole at all times, he was going to DIE.

It served me right, anyway, for wanting to do such ridiculous things.

Like pee when my bladder was full, or make myself something to eat.

OR BREATHE.

Activities that actually made him happy were things like yanking on my nose stud, flinging DVDs off the DVD tower, throwing his cup of apple juice across the kitchen, and whacking me in the face with his recorder flute.

I’m not stressed out about it at all.

But, I have decided that I don’t really want to put him in the closet when he’s like this, after all.

I want to go in there. Alone. And sleep.

Codeine and God

My back is actually feeling better today. I’m pretty surprised, considering I’m usually laid up with this type of pain for about a week before it gets better. It’s still a little tender, but much better.

So, last night I drank a cup of coffee at about 10pm. Why? Because I’m a loser and lately I’ve been getting really tired before I’m ready to sign off for the night. A little later, we popped in our latest Netflix DVD, Lord of War (pretty darn good). I kept shifting around on the couch trying to find a comfortable position.

Shifting really doesn’t help.

I caved and took a BC powder dose. Wee! This crap not only has a butt-load of aspirin in it, but it also has a nice shot of caffeine. Yay, now I had more than just the cup of coffee running through my blood.

About 30 minutes later, still in agony, I really caved and took codeine (co-codamol).

Later, at bed-time, I rolled over on my side and felt a warm hand on my lower back.

“Lord, please make my wife’s back feel better.”

Silence.

[John] “I love you.”

“Are you still talking to God?”

“No.”

“Oh. I love you, too.”

Pause.

“Amen.” (smart ass)

Pause.

[Me] “Stop trying to have a 3-way with me and God.”

I blame the codeine.

Random Sharing, While in Agony

Kind of random and pointless post today, since my back is acting 159 years old again.

Something I did in the past few days (not sure what, exactly) has paid off by resulting in sciatic pain shooting down my leg yesterday morning, followed by tender, nervy pain in my lower back last night, and climaxing as serious, hobbling-type back pain for me all day today.

It has worsened as the day has worn on, no matter what I have done. Usually I can minimize the pain with a combination of Ibuprofen/Ice Gel Pack/Hydration/Rest. Today, the Back Pain Demon is having none of it.

So, I hobbled down the steep-ass driveway this morning to sweep up the mulch that some Butt Raper’s dog flung out of the flowerbed I’ve been nurturing alongside the driveway. If I see this happening again, I swear I’m going to run out there, bad back or not, and kick that freakin’ dog as hard as I can.

Then John mowed the lawn, since it was starting to look like no-one lived here, and a kid came to my door last week and asked me, “Can I, uh… mow your lawn for some money?”

John has been gone all this afternoon to do work on Chris Cagle‘s next album. He’s at Scott Hendricks’s studio, much to his delight. He’ll probably be there all night. Yay @ the work and the experience for John. Boo @ John being gone while I’m all decrepit.

Braden has been increasingly vocal in the past month, with a sharp upturn in the jabbering activity just this past week.

He’s been making a sound for some time that I SWORE was him asking “What’s this?” It sounds kind of like “Huh-Ish?” He confirmed my suspicions a few days ago when he held up his little, fake cell-phone and CLEARLY asked me, “Whas-tis?” He has said it semi-clearly only once more since then, but has been repeatedly making the “Huh-ish?” and now “Teh-Iss?” sounds while pointing, or staring, at something. It’s wonderful.

For the record, he’s been saying, “Dadada” for awhile. Sometimes it seems discriminate, sometimes it seems random. Today, twice, he’s whined, “Maaaaahh” to me in a needy way.

Also for the record, TEETHING SUCKS. I would like to petition Our Creator for a change in this process, ie: all teeth should arrive overnight, at one time.

Have I mentioned that my back hurts? Right now, it’s feeling like Satan’s Torture Playground Rehearsal Scene, in the movie, “Lotus: The Later Years.”

I need a nap. Where’s MY paci?

*grumble*

At least Braden’s having some fun today.

Unexpected Situations

INSTRUCTIONS FOR CHILD REARING, Chapter 11
*Unexpected Situations, Part 3
*What to Do When Child Attempts to Eat Own ExcrementFather:
1.) Notice that your diaperless sweetheart just dropped a log on the carpet.
2.) Realize simultaneously that he is bending over to pick it up.
3.) FREAK OUT.
4.) Start screaming – begin in normal tone of voice, quickly ramping up to intense, shrill trumpeting – “no, No, NO, NO NOOO, NOOOOOO!!!!”
5.) Jump any obstacles and rush over, grabbing the child’s arm right before disaster strikes.
6.) Hold child up in mid-air, looking bewildered and disgusted.
7.) Run out of room with child, not sure where you are going.

Mother:
1.) Be startled by your husband screaming.
2.) Look to see what is going on.
3.) Laugh. A lot.
4.) Laugh some more.
5.) Point. LAUGH.
6.) Tell your husband to put the baby in the bath tub.
7.) Help clean the child, starting by wiping the chunk of Turd off of his lip.

People, no matter how smart you think your kid is everytime he does something that seems brilliant and amazing… an episode like this will leave you wondering about the adaptive qualities of putting everything in the mouth. I mean… do our kids REALLY need to learn about the world by tasting it? Can’t God just program in, “Don’t Eat Your Own Shit, Thanks.” ?

*sigh*

But…. it WAS funny. Heh.PS: No pictures on this one, sorry. I was afraid John might actually divorce me if I went and got the camera.