Yes, I know it's Tuesday. But I still have a case of the Mondays today. Warren was a train wreck yesterday- his top left tooth is so almost-broken-through that his gums are stretched to a transparent state. Yes, I know it must really really hurt. I remember when my wisdom teeth broke through. I, however, did not just scream and cry and trash around all day. ALL DAY LONG. I mean, sure he's just a baby and he can't talk and he doesn't understand what's happening-but still. Dramatic much?
So I went to bed at nine last night. Don't even care. And when Warren woke up at 4:15, I dumped him in my bed and immediately decided that I wasn't going to get up at 5 to work out. I mean, that would just be stupid. Forty five minutes of sleep? Why even bother.
Except that on days I don't work out, I can't seem to get going. I am sitting in the recliner right now, watching Ava lay on the couch and watch Mickey Mouse. I can see her brain rotting in her sweet little head. I can hear the water running in the bathroom where Scott is "washing his hands" and I don't even care that by the time I finally get up and get in there, there'll probably be two inches of standing water on the floor. Warren in playing happily at my feet, and right now, that's all I care about.
I will never, ever hurt my child. Ever. I have Nick, and plenty of neighbors when he's not here that would be more than willing to help me out. But these last few days, I've started to understand, just a little, what drives some women to shake their little guys until their brains turn into Jello. Those of you who think I'm exaggerating, I'm NOT-he screams his head off, for hours at a time! Rocking, walking, swinging, snuggling, Motrin, teething tablets, Tylenol...nothing works. I don't understand how this happened. Neither of the other two did this! I never believed in 'colic' before, but now I gotta say, if I had a three week old who cried like this, I'd probably kill myself.
On a better note, Scott is probably eighty five percent potty trained! Hooray! No accidents since Thursday, and it's getting to be where he is the one to say he needs to go, not me and Nick saying 'Scott, do you need to go potty?' So exciting! I forgot how great it is, seriously. Except we just bought TONS of big kid diapers at BJs because our membership was expiring. We still use four a day-two per kid- but that's a LOT of diapers.
All right, gonna try to rock the baby down for nap while the big kids play dress up. I haven't taken any pics because I know one day, he'll be embarrassed, but you guys should see Scott play dress up. He puts on his pink skirt and purple high heels...bless his heart. You know, I hate that expression. It seems so condescending. Thought I'd try it out, see if it grew on me. It didn't.