Teething: The New El Nino!

I have spent the last ten months blaming everything on teething. It has been my answer to all questions and problems. Why is Samuel cranky? Teething. Why won't he eat dinner? Teething. Why did he just throw his toy car in the toilet? Teething. Why are my jeans feeling snug? Teething. By my calculations, he should have about sixty three teeth by now. He doesn't. He is just now starting to show off tooth number 7 and 8.

People are always telling me that I don't have to have an answer for every little cry, whimper and sleepless night. "The minute you figure out what's wrong, he'll be onto something else," my mother always says. It gives me peace to know that this too shall pass, but the need to diagnose everything is one of my mommy impulses and I can't help but replay days and weeks at a time to solve the mystery of what's bothering Sam at this very moment. Which is fruitless given that at this stage in the game, whatever it is better be cured with infant tylenol or a humidifier because that's all I can give him. This afternoon, my sweet boy was really cranky and I thought to myself, "It's definitely his teeth." Come to find out that I had put his shoes on the wrong feet and they were hurting him. At least I'm guessing that was what was hurting him...oh I don't know, here's your humidifier and bedtime bunny. Let's talk about it in the morning.

So I took my first significant trip away from my family last week. I spent a week in DC for work and it was homesick city for me. I stayed quite busy the first few days, but Thursday and Friday seemed to drag on forever. I played all these magnificent scenerios of the Binky greeting me when I arrived home with a huge smile and screaming "MOMMY" not "DOG" as he ran across the room to jump into my arms. Oh wait, he's my one year old, not the last scene of "Some Kind of Wonderful". What was I thinking? I got the smile I was hoping for, but as for the running, screaming and hugging...well, his grandfather got those as he smiled at me, spun around and ran to his Papa so they could sing Old McDonald some more. Emotional, I know. Gets you right here (pointing at my heart). I settled for hearing some of his contagious laughter and listening intently as he sang "IEIEIE" (as in EIEI-O). It's good to be home...no it's GREAT to be home. I missed that little guy.

While in Washington, I got to meet up with a fellow mommy friend of mine, Cool Cat Shaney Shane's mom. It was a blast to spend some time with a girlfriend and someone who's baby is at the same stage as mine (the boys are 2 1/2 weeks apart). I sometimes text her to see what she's doing with her kid. I ask questions like, "Does Shane eat chicken nuggets yet?" "Are diaper changes getting any easier?" and of course "Are wipe baths okay some nights?" I like her answers. Laid back and not necessarily by the book. I think she's a great mom.

We went out on the town, two desperate mommy working housewives with no agenda and no curfew. We were desperately trying to ignore the fact that we were yawning at 8:30PM and secretly dreaming about our pajama pants and footies awaiting us at home and the hotel. After dinner, we wandered over to one of her favorite stores. We browsed around looking, not buying (we are both a little on the frugal side) and found our way to a bin of $10 purses. Looking back now, I find the fact that we debated over whether or not we needed the $10 purses for a good fifteen minutes a little amusing, given that we both had dropped around $30-$40 on our boys at the Hard Rock Cafe gift shop without batting an eye. My how mommyhood changes your priorities. We finally agreed that we, in fact, needed $10 red purses and made the purchases. The night flew by, even as we sipped coffee at the sketchy Dunkin' Donuts and compared mommy notes. Having that night out made my trip away from my boys a little easier.

Thanks for the fun time, Thirty.

Love, Peach


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