The Terrible Teething Tom.

I don’t think Tom is terrible.

I think the teething is terrible.

Not Tom.

I need to make sure you know I don’t think it’s Tom’s fault he’s teething, and therefore not-so-awesome right now.

But he’s not terrible.

(Except sort of.)

But it’s not his fault!

On Monday, Tom woke up at 3:30 a.m. with a fever so I gave him Motrin. But instead of going back to sleep, he stayed awake until 6 a.m.

Say it with me: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

So anyway, I wasn’t my usual perky, happy, loving self.

I was…not even close to any of those things.

And Tom?

Tom hated the idea of any of those things ever existing.

Here is how our day went:

Me: Tom, do you want to go outside?
Tom: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Me: Tom, do you want to play inside?
Tom: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Me: Tom, do you want lunch?
Tom: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
*30 seconds later*
Tom: (He signed “more” which he does when he’s hungry.)
Me: So…you do want lunch?
Tom: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

When we weren’t having these delightful conversations (Me: Want to play in the sandbox? Tom: NOOOOOOOOOOO!) Tom was moaning.

He really was.

A constant, almost 12-hour-long moan.

And he scrunched up his face like he does when he doesn’t like something.

He scrunches his face and then — How can I explain this well? Ummm…I can’t — he kind of breathes loud. And fast. But not in a hyperventilating way. In a mad way.

(Yeah…totally awesome description, right?)

And he wanted to be held constantly, but not. He moaned for me to hold him, so I’d pick him up and then he’d fling himself to get down.

And he was DONE! with EV-ERY-THING.

Throughout the day he flapped his hands around and announced he was DONE! with whatever or nothing we were doing 1,237 times.

I counted.

Done, Done, Done, Done, Done! (plus 1,232 more times.)

By 4:30 p.m., I waved my hands around and said I was DONE!

His response?

Done.

So then I invented a game on our bed where I hit him with pillows in the face.

Guess what?

Hitting my child in the face with pillows made me feel a lot better about our day.

And he loved it.

(I swear!)

And then Tuesday morning he woke up with a new tooth.

I’m happy he has the tooth. I really, really am.

Because if the way he acted Monday was his actual personality, I would have to curl up into a ball and moan for 12 hours and announce I was DONE!

With…you know…life.

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This entry was posted in Motherhood, Tom. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The Terrible Teething Tom.

  1. Karen C says:

    OH you poor dears!!!!

    Thank God it only lasted one day, but unfort. there are more teeth to come!

    Done done done!!!!!;)

  2. Jody Gelsthorpe says:

    Maybe you should have said -Do you want to go see Mimi? I’m just sayin’ …
    I love that little guy!

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