We heard a persistent alarm going off the other day. It sounded a bit like unnh-nnnhh! Unnh-nnnhh! Unnh-nnnhh! I looked outside, thinking some cats may have been shagging in the garden but it turns out the sound was coming from our son. Wait a minute - a whiney baby? Who stole ours and left us this one? Bad enough it's been pissing down rain for a thousand years, now this!?
We frowned at each other and went through the baby emergency checklist: check nappy, check feeding schedule, check when he last shat, check if he needs a burp or fart, check body temperature, check the house temperature, check whether he's bored, check if he needs a cuddle, check them all again. Check that we checked everything needing checking. Check that we checked them all again.
Unnh-nnnhh! Unnh-nnnhh! Unnh-nnnhh! It was the infant equivalent of 'Arewethereyet? Arewethereyet?' But we couldn't manage this one with a juice box, a handful of Goldfish and a Disney DVD. Damn.
We were baffled, until...hangonaminute, there is drool. There is drool, and there are bubbles. There is a fist constantly being chewed. There is a history in the past week or so of chewing on the bottle instead of slurping from it.
Ok, let me check that lower gum and see if - wot hey, there seem to be nubs! Man the torpedoes! All hands on deck! Full speed ahead and get the teething gel! And Daddy's magic pinky took action and lo and behold the alarm fell silent and bubba went back to gurgling and cooing and staring at the fan, giggling. Phew. Magic stuff, that Bonjela. I wonder if it works on headaches?
Anyhoo, I guess this means the likelihood of Rukai ever officially taking to breastfeeding proper is now pretty slim. So it's back to the pump for me. (Damn the pump!) Breast may be best, but we're growing teeth in there. This is a whole new ball game.
Teeth. Hmm. Teeth chew. Teeth require brushing. Teeth hurt whey they push on gums. And wouldn't you know it, mommies really hurt when they hear their living baby alarms going off. I'm such a softy when I see him upset - this will not be easy. Let's hope they aren't bothering him on Wednesday when we go for Jabs, part III. If so, I may have to buy some earplugs, a carton of Kleenex and a twelve pack.
Our little weed last measured at 60 cm and seems to have grown significantly since. That's two whole feet long. That's too long for the 3-6 month sleepsuits we bought about ten minutes ago, so I've had to stretch them to within seconds of popping. I'd cut the toes off and leave him in socks but the weather is so bleak I want to keep him a bit bundled up. This is really cramping his summer style and efforts to chew on his toes. He still can't master the leg lift but lo and behold we keep practicing. Then too, if the weather doesn't change soon he may forget he has toes.
The 'Great Big Toe Grab' goes hand in hand with his other new favorite game, which I think is called 'Sit me the hell up already' but is far more difficult with neck muscles that don't quite cooperate. He lasts about five minutes doing tummy time - hates it like I hate the rain - so he hasn't mastered the upper body essentials. But he damn sure is trying. You can take that particular 'trying' and define it in any way you'd like.
So every day for about three weeks now, we practice. He grabs my thumbs and when he pokes his head forward and gives a tug, I sit him up. He bobbles around looking ecstatic like he's just won Olympic gold and I lie him down to rest. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Let go of his fingers to give him a rest too early and he screams bloody murder until I hold his hands again. And sometimes he wants to go straight up to his feet - those legs are powerhouses compared to the upper body and by God he wants to use them. Miss that cue and whaddaya think? He screams bloody murder. Do it right and he's the world champion in the Gummy Grin event.
At this rate, when he grows up he's either going to be a cheerleader or the lead singer of an ACDC tribute band. Better keep those earplugs handy.