Rollie Pollie is a teething mess. Really. Truly. Teething. Mess. My sweet, adorable, goofy, smiling boy has been replaced by a screaming, crying, thrashing, never sleeping cranky pants. Waah! Someone pass the Motrin. And Vodka. Oh just kidding! I'm breast feeding for crying out loud! In fact, with this dang teething, I'm breast feeding a lot and the chewing/biting isn't my fave. I don't really think I even have nipples anymore.....at least not nipples that I can feel. Oh, you just wanted to know that didn't you??
We went to the Zoo today and it was the most miserable experience there yet! I should have just turned around the car when I saw the loooooong lines, the hoards of children and school buses. But no, I persevered, I dug my heels in and said "We ARE GOING TO THE ZOO TODAY!" It sucked. Kids everywhere. I love kids, I do. I just don't love 5 million, bazillion, gatrillion kids at the zoo. Especially when I have a three year old who was up late the night before, awoke early this morning, decided to skip breakfast and throw temper tantrums the first hour of the trip. I swear, he was possessed and I almost called a priest. Instead I bought him some french fries and it worked better than any holy water. Ah, my sweet boy was back. By then I'd had enough though and we left....which you would think would end the horrible day, but oh no, we were just getting started!
In the car Rollie Pollie started screaming about 2 seconds into the 30 minute trip home and screamed the ENTIRE way. And by screaming, I don't just mean, baby crying, I mean screaming.....choking screaming.....gagging screaming.....rip yo mama's heart out and make her crave a valium screaming.
So we get home. Rollie Pollie is all better as soon as I get him out of his torture chair of doom (aka the car seat) and we go inside. Ah, that's better. Right? You should know by now the answer to that....
We haven't even been home for 5 minutes, 5 MINUTES and what happens you ask? I'll tell you! Turkey somehow trips and do you want to know what breaks his fall? I'll tell you! His freakin' HEAD slamming onto the coffee table. That's what broke his fall. Frickety, Frackerty, Frack! So I put Kingston down (yeah, still holding my teething monster, hello! he doesn't like to be set down!) pick Turkey up, who incidentally is now screaming his head off, look at him and see a giant gash under his chin and it's bleeding like there is no tomorrow. Grrrrreat. Of course I feel awful and comfort him and clean him up. I call my mom the nurse, she rushes over with dermabond (oooo did she swipe that from the hospital.....???) and then oh, then, we get to hold Turkey (who is no longer "turkey" but a wild, thrashing cougar) down and glue his chin back together. OMG. Let me say that one more time. OMG. Somewhere in the mix Husband showed up for lunch, helped me (thank God!) and we got Turkey all calmed down. As for all the therapy he'll need in his thirties, well, I just can't help that. Did I mention it was like seriously freaking nap time when all this shiz went down?? Well it was. Oy vey!
I'm just glad the day is over. Amen!