Yesterday

Braden woke up late again yesterday. The plan was no nap, so bedtime would be painless and a full night’s healing sleep would be had.

And despite no nap, we had a great time.

And Mommy was feeling triumphant last night. Bedtime was painless, and The Boy slept well.

Every day is new.

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.

Waking for Braden

Last night I awoke, at about 4:30 am, to mildly-annoyed-baby-whine sounds. Listening to the monitor intently for a moment, tapping into that special Baby Sound Meanings-Deciphering Super Power us mommies have, I decided Braden must be half asleep, but missing his paci.Sometimes, the sounds say, “I miss my paci… but it’s not a big deal, and in a few seconds, I’m gonna murmur off, back into deep sleep without it.” When they say that, I roll over and go back to sleep.

Sometimes the sleepy sounds say, “Uh-oh. I miss my paci. While I sound pretty deep asleep still, right now, if it doesn’t jump in my mouth soon, things are going to change pretty quickly.” When they say that, I’ve learned to get up quickly, walk quietly, search furtively, find the paci and plug the hole.

Of course, sometimes they say, “OMG, I’M NOT GOING TO MAKE QUIET, SLEEPY SOUNDS AT ALL! I JUST WOKE UP, MY PACI IS GONE, AND WE’RE GOING STRAIGHT INTO DEFCON-5! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Those are the nights when I really, really wish I hadn’t given up the sweet, sweet alcohol. (Because getting drunk while rocking a child back to sleep for the next seventy-eleven hours is a good idea. ? )

So, anyway, while I was standing by his crib reaching into the corner to retrieve The Paci, the soft glow of his crib-side light gave me one of those sweet glimpses of my Nighttime Braden. He was nestled near the corner of the crib right next to me, on his back, sleepily rubbing at one eye, with both eyes still shut. His blonde hair was falling back softly from his forehead. He had that, “I’m an angel in dinosaur pajamas” look. I sighed as I put the paci back into his little mouth, and listened to his sleepy, happy sucking sounds.

Back in bed, I spoke to him in my head for a few minutes.

“Braden, you have amazed me just recently.

I can’t believe how much you JUST changed on me again. I can’t believe how often you are talking to me, and that you’re asking me QUESTIONS!

I can’t believe that you can RUN and point at things and ask me, “Ish?” (this?) and “Wah-DAHT?”

I can’t believe that you spit out large paragraphs of garbled baby-language about the things I identify for you.

Braden, I’m just amazed by you and I don’t know how to tell you that. I still can’t believe that God decided to let you live with me.

But, you know what, Braden?

I hope He never changes His mind.”

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.

Braden James University

My son astounds me every day with his beauty.

How is it possible that this person came out of my body?

I have 2 degrees, a BA and an MA…. spent yearsandyearsandyears in school with my nose in books…. and I have learned more in the past 11 months than I ever did in a classroom.

My son reminds me of how important it is to laugh, sing, play, and love. What better lessons in life are there than these?