a new hope

For some reason I had it in my head that when G hit 12 months it was just all going to fall into place.  It was going to be like a miracle!

 

He was going to walk. Talk. Be the man of the hour with his party hat on and most importantly he was going to sleep through the night, being a big boy and all… and I had hope!

 

Yesterday I actually realized that for days and weeks I’ve been chatting with a friend, commiserating about out children wake us up at insane hours to nurse or to just play because they were awake and wanted to see our grumpy faces…

 

and  then it dawns on me.  Her child is 16 months old.

 

Wait.  That’s 4 more months beyond my expected miracle. How can this be?!

 

I’m crushed. I must find a new hope…

teething – sucks

I think today is the first time where I’ve truly felt overwhelmed by G’s needs to the point of having to just sit him down and walk away – and despite his renewed [and very loud heartbroken] cries had to let M take over for a little while.

He doesn’t want to play. He doesn’t want to eat. He doesn’t want to be left alone. He doesn’t want to be held.  He will nurse [but I can't do that ALL day]. He doesn’t want to sleep [although he finally is after fighting it every step of the way].

This second round of teething – sucks.

That’s me

He likes the wire to the mouse.  I take it away. He cries. Fine then! I give it back.

He starts to chew on it like a little mouse.  gnawgnawgnaw.

Hmmm. This probably isn’t good.

Me:  “Hey… can G get electrocuted if he chews through the mouse wire?”

Him:  “Uh.. yeah.” (said with the required ‘yes, dumbass’ tone)

Me: “Crap.”

Take it away. Fussing commences. A lot. Screw it.

gnawgnawgnawhappygnawgnawgnaw

Mother of the Year. That’s me.