An alternate titles to this post were:
A. Help! My ten month old thinks she’s a toddler!!
B. Toilet paper, tantrums and sippy cup meltdowns
C. NEED MORE COFFEE…
Any idea where this post is headed yet? Oh that’s right, we’ve got a baby diva on our hands this week. A top tooth is right there. A big ‘ole top tooth is on our horizon. The gum is starting to part and another day or two and that sucker will be O.U.T… phew. We are in full blown teething hell.
In other fun news, my ten month old thinks she’s a toddler. Who can blame her, she just wants to keep up with the big kids. Now that she’s walking, she feels her attitude should match her swagger. And boy, oh boy, does she have a lot of swagger.
Two minutes setting up lunch? Two minutes of Baby-Destructor! Emerson discovered the toilet paper roll. (Also, note to self, clean the bathroom WAY more frequently now that these chubby hands touch everything. *shudder*) I came back from the dining room to half the roll of TP on the floor. She didn’t notice me at first, so naturally I grabbed the camera, snapped a few pictures and said, “Emerson? What have you discovered?” Lens focused, zoomed in, face centered and in 3,2,1. SNAP. Guilty as charged.
Other moments of hilarity that have ensued due to our teething hell this week include:
- Rolling around on the floor in a sippy cup tantrum.
- Getting mad that you can’t walk over the dog. It causes you to fall and cry.
- Getting mad that you can’t push over the gate so you fall down and cry.
- Getting told not to throw food off your table, so you get mad and cry.
- Being a baby? Get mad and cry.
- Having to wear a diaper? Get mad and cry.
- Nap-time? Get furious and scream.
Oh yes, oh yes, this momma needs more coffee. And a nap.
As her guardian, care-giver, and loving mother, I try to keep my calm. Yet, some days by the time 6 o’ clock rolls around I am watching the seconds tick away just waiting, waiting for Kyle to come home and hand off the demon-teether to Daddy. Wine is usually involved after the hand-off process. It’s like the glorious prize of surviving another day with a teething-ten-month-wanna-be-toddler.