The Road to Hell...
December 06, 2006
...is paved with baby snot, apparently.
Back when I was young and new and flush with baby-milestone-celebratitis, I was obsessed Noah's teeth. I took pictures of them right as they appeared and wrote the corresponding date in his baby book, and I didn't even think it was weird that his baby book included a creepy dental chart of crudely drawn teeth and jaws for just this purpose.
I would like to report that I am Over Teeth.
I am fairly certain he is too.
And I am DEFINITELY over Writing About Teeth.
In a no-rest-for-the-weary kind of thing (what's with all the cliche butchering today?), it appears Noah's canines are coming in, mere DAYS after his fourth and final molar cut through. The molars took TWO SOLID MONTHS of varying degrees of awfulness, and for some reason I thought we'd get a little break before the next onslaught.
So we have another cold, lots of drool, low-grade fever and all that. I'm feeling like crap too, of course, but holy hell, I've written this "waaaaah teeth cold snot bleh" entry before and I am so tired of writing this entry, but I'm too tired to think of anything else to write.
(I could write about Gymboree, and how I took Noah there today, even though you're totally not supposed to bring babies that are currently leaking fluids, but DEAR GOD I NEEDED TO GET OUT OF THE HOUSE AND SEE MY FRIEND* so I dragged our congested asses there anyway and then spent the entire class trying to surreptitiously wipe Noah's nose without anyone noticing and screaming "UNCLEAN! UNCLEAN!" And then the fire alarm went off and we all had to leave, Jesus H. Christ.)
(*Yes! Bunny! She's totally still talking to me and inviting me places! I never have to go to Trader Joe's alone anymore! She kicks ass and I have to remind myself not to make schmoopy puppydog eyes at her. At least not when she can see me do it.)