Actually, cry, fuss and scream as they did while cutting teeth, neither Gwendolyn or Fletcher had the misfortune to be cutting four freaking premolars at once, as is baby Grady. His poor pink little gums, top and bottom, are knotted with marble-sized lumps of ouchy painful bastard teeth, just barely poking pearly tips through. At night he "rests" in fitful half-slumber, rolling, wallering and whimpering even though he has been adequately dosed with baby Tylenol. During daylight hours, he roams the house fretfully, wild strings of Anbesol-laced drool soaking his shirt like a geezer gumming a pork chop.
He doesn't want a Popsicle or a teething toy. Occasionally he half-heartedly bites me but it seems like it takes too much effort. Mostly he brings me board books and wants to snuggle down under the covers on my big bed and read or watch Yo Gabba Gabba (which is kind of starting to get on my nerves, since it's his favorite show and we watch it A LOT).
Basically I am not getting much of anything at all accomplished, but that's okay. Years of living with children has taught me that not only will this pass, it will pass so quickly that 10 years from now it will seem like five minutes ago and I will be crying on Matt's shoulder wondering how my baby got so big so quickly. And he'll laugh at my grey hair.
In the meantime, we have gone back to school. I say "we" because with all the hustle, bustle and responsibility that comes with having a first grader and a freaking junior, it feels like "we" are all involved! Gwendolyn did not allow a first-day-of-school photograph this year, but here is a picture of lovely first-grade Fletcher, in all his mowhawked cuteness in the car on the way to his big first day:
Hope all your adventures are memorable, Mahalo for reading!
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