I Miss My Kid: Tales of Teething

Has any one seen this kid?
I know I left him around here somewhere! Yet, I keep waking up and finding Oscar the grouch in the crib. Well or on the floor. I mean we have been on a steady tylenol stream. Shit gets weird.
 Well, I sure do hope he comes back soon. Because the demon who currently lives in his body is a real jerk. We are having ourselves quite a week and we have two year old molars to thank. Seriously, my poor guy!! I feel so bad. I’ve never seen him teeth this hard. I guess it’s the big finale? Either way, it’s rough. Oh and he is quite mean to me in the process. I know, I know. That’s the Mom’s job! Even if it is part of the job, it still hurts when you separate your big toe and your second toe on the side of the baby gate, trying to run around in the middle of the night to help your screaming kid. Ya, that’s the worst. When it happened I said, “Oh golly gee shucks.” Haha just kidding. I yelled something profane and unladylike. Bandit judged me.
 Of course I understand what is going on.  It hurts my heart to watch them be in teething pain. But if I had to be honest and use one word to describe Ben’s behavior this week it would be “rude.” Especially to his poor baby brother! Everything he touches gets ripped out of his hands. Rude. Rude. Rude.
 One time at a cook out I was talking about how rude my baby was being. Some woman was like, “Uhhhhh… Did you just call your baby rude?” Like, Judge Judy central. I’m like lady, of course I’m just kidding around. But have you ever hung out with a baby? Rude is possibly the best word to describe them. Sometimes I kiss my 10 months old and he reciprocates by pulling a pieces of my hair out while hugging me and reaching for my coffee over my shoulder to knock it over. I make a quick move to have him avoid the coffee. (DON’T worry every one. It’s always cold. Could I heat it back up? Sure. It wouldn’t matter though, I’d just forget about it again while Mom-ing around in the morning.) He knocks over the coffee. I jump up. I step on a plastic minion. I make a yelping noise. The baby laughs and applauds. I don’t know how else to describe that behavior, but rude. Haha.

 Teething is a whole new level of the Mom game. Teething causes perfectly nice toddlers to look at you with dead eyes and knock all the folded laundry onto the floor. Just because I asked him if he wanted a drink? Geez. Tough crowd. So let’s have a quick comparison to highlight the different behaviors.

Happy Kid vs. Teething Kid
My happy kid at the playground:
Teething kid at the playground:
Fun, cool kid taking in a parade
 in the center of our town:
Teething kid taking in a parade 
in the center of our town:
Silly ham of a kid 
having a popsicle on the deck:
Teething kid having a popsicle:
Hey Mom, Let me rest this Popsicle on your shirt real quick.
Awesome boys of mine ready 
to go on an outdoor adventure:
Teething kid who I wrestled into the stroller for my own survival:
Brothers being amazing pals:
Teething kids hanging out with someone they hate sharing their Mom with:

A sweet boy hanging with his best pal, Bandit:
A teething kid who doesn’t want Bandit within 10 ft of him:
Flexible and laid back guys 
hanging in a wagon:
Teething while riding in a wagon:
Checking the monitor on your sleeping sweet angel. Feeling thankful.
Teething kid check up. OH MY GOD KID. You are so over tired. Please go to sleep.
Snuggling with my nice guy:
Teething kid decides the only possible way he will sleep is if you join him.
The entourage riding in the car 
and having the best day:
Teething makes me loud in the car:
Happy and full of life.
 Enjoying time with his Dad on the machine:
Teething kid pretending 
to drive the gator:
Is he driving on the high way to hell? No one can be sure. 


A great friend to all bears 
who live in his room:
A teething kid who isn’t afraid to choke a bear out if he needs to:


This teething business can make for tough long days. Uncomfortable days. Days that make your heart ache. You want to will them better. Watching your kid hurting is the worst. So the only choice you have is to snuggle the crap out of them. Just love them harder. And if you get nailed in the face with a plastic truck in the process, just take a deep breath and channel your inner Elsa. “Let it goooooooo…”






Oh wait. Did I say snuggling was the answer? It is. I mean…. peace, love, kumbaya and all that jazz. But Uhhh… also, along with snuggling. Remember:

Try to not let them kill each other:


Drive around aimlessly in your car to make people sleep once they have defeated you in their cribs. The bonus to this is you can perfect all your voices in Bohemian rhapsody. You got nothing but time Mama. Drink too much coffee because when you go to Dunks you at least feel like you did something. Call your Dad. Snicker as he says, “Okay Britt, remember this in two years when you start to think it’s a good idea to have a 3rd kid.” Haha. (He had four kids in 5 years. He may still have PTSD still from trying to keep us all alive while my Mom worked at the hospital.)

GIVE YOURSELF A BREAK. Relax and don’t worry that you said you were going to take away the binky’s this week. Cut yourself some slack lady. We are currently in survival mode. There is no time for that type of self inflicted guilt worry.

Try not to kill your husband just because you had a super rough day with the kids. Ya he hasn’t been helping with the laundry. And yes, he missed bedtime and you had to wrestle every body as usual. But don’t let the stress of nap battling all day make you resentful to him. Projecting your bad day onto him as soon as he walks in the door… An’t nobody got time for that shit. Just remember, you have small children. You are sweaty and busy. But you love this dude. Take a couple deep breaths and let him hug you for 5 minutes. Then proceed to speak to each other.

This too shall pass. 
So I’ll hold that child of mine a little tighter. Rub my face on the back of his head. That sounds creepy when you type it out, but I know you know what I’m talking about. Man I love smelling babies. Hahaha. Sorry, but it’s true.
I won’t worry. I’ll just take good care of him and wait for my happy kid to come back.

He always comes back.


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