Last weekend, from September 11-14, you left your mama for the first extended trip. This was an important mission for you, wee man, because a lovely woman to whom you owe your existence is sickening, and she needed to meet you soon.
14 hours is a long way to drive for a 4 month old, but you were a trooper. I wasn’t with you on this trip to meet your paternal’s maternal grandparents, so dad will have to fill you in on the details, but one thing I do know. Boy do I ever know it now. Dear baby, you cut your first tooth on the drive up to Indiana, and you are freaking killing me with it.
I missed you very much while you were gone, and I was pretty ticked that I missed you cutting your first tooth. I feel like I miss everything, sometimes. But anyway, I had to work all day Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, so the time flew by for me. On Saturday night, September 13th, I slept 8 straight hours for the first time since April 24. It felt like my brain had taken off a sweater and was firing with all synapses again, at last. (It is September 16th, and I’m back to fuzzy again – you did the every 2.5 hours wakeup thing last night.)
Anyway, you returned as happy, large, and loud as you left, only plus one tooth. It is your lower right, and your lower left is due to pop out any day, and I will be extremely happy when it does. See, dear, since your teeth started making their way to the surface, you have loved biting down hard on stuff. It makes your gums feel good. Prior to your epic journey to visit Gran and G Squared, you were clamping your little baby mouth down on mom’s boob after you filled up at each feeding. You’d open your eyes wide and look straight at me while you did it, giving me an expression that says “Aaaaaaaaaahhhhh, that feels SOOOOOOOOOOO GOOOOOOOOOOD.” And I would stare wide-eyed right back at you, with an expression that says “Holy God, open your mouth, open your mooouuttthh!!!!” And I’d pry your little gums apart with my finger and get you to bite on that for a bit instead.
OK, so now this happens, only there’s a sharp little baby tooth involved, and sweet juniper does it hurt like mad when you do it. I’m hoping that once your second lower tooth comes in, you’ll give me a break from this for a while. If you don’t, then you’d better get ready to try some squash and carrots, kid, because this is more than I signed up for. The exhaustion, the hair caked with spitup (mine, not yours), the drool everywhere – this I can do. Bodily mutilation is not in my contract.
You continue to delight me and your dad with your smiles. You have an Exersaucer and you just love to bounce up and down in it, to work those little fat dimpled knees. I tried to feed you your cereal in the Exersaucer last night, and it didn’t work out so well – your mouth is hard enough a target, without factoring in the bouncing! It’s fun to see you have fun, though, and continue to learn how to use your body.
You’ve found your feet and, ahem, penis. Oh yes. Bathtime is lots of fun, and I have a feeling that diaper changing will get more and more interesting by the day. Finger painting with poop, just what we need around here to compliment the Jackson Pollack spitup art all over the place. Anyway, you just get cuter by the day, and now that you are drooling and clenching your mouth and gnawing on stuff, you have turned into a classic Gerber baby. I LOVE YOU! I love you so much, which is why I continue to get up and feed you even though you bite my tender parts with great relish, pee all over me, and demand all of my time and energy. It’s yours, my dear baby, now and forever. All yours. (Except the little bit I spare for dad, which ain’t much these days!)