As I sit here chugging down my second cup of coffee today, I'm left wondering if there is any amount of caffeinated beverage that can get me through this blessed little day. It's hard to remember why I'm so grumpy when her little bright-eyed face-complete with toothy grin-is staring back at me at 6:30 am, but, oh wait, yes, I've remembered.
To sum it up, Kinley has been a gremlin since Monday. I'm not sure why, and at this point, I'm not sure it matters. I just want my little Spinkle back. We had a very busy weekend visiting a new baby in the hospital, going to the fair, Daddy being gone studying a lot and PASSING his final Series 7 test! (whoop!), visiting with Grandma and Grandpa, and Daddy's birthday party.
On Monday, the little sprout had a fever. Honestly, should could have picked up something anywhere. The hospital is primed with germs and sickness. She could have gotten some sort of goat flu at the fair, and our house was packed with people-all of whom wanted to kiss all over that adorable little face-and, really, who could blame them? Did I mention that she was swapping spit (pacifiers) with one of her little Ethans? "This makes sense," I thought. "We'll get through this little snafu and we'll be on our way." FAIL.
The fever passed by late Monday night, but her horns have not yet fallen off.
She's tired, but won't sleep, playful, but won't play, hungry, but won't eat. She wants to nurse. A lot and all the time. After a two hour marathon last night, I was on the verge of tears. My back hurt, my boobs hurt, and I was drained in every way possible.
In my little head, I have 'Look Who's Talking' moments, during which I imagine the little darling's thought processes.
"Why not give Mommy one more magical night of seeing me every hour on the hour? She'll be going back to work soon, and I think she'll appreciate my efforts at more time with me!" And so last night was the worst yet.
This is the tough part about babies. Obviously, she cannot tell me what's wrong, and I don't expect her to. (Although it would.be.AWESOME.)
Therefore, I've compiled a REAL list of what the malfunction could be:
1. A growth spurt. She's coming up on 9 months so it makes sense.
2. She loves me. She can't get enough of me. Isn't separation anxiety supposed to rear it's ugly head about
now anyway? (I should stop here and just go with it. Nothing wrong with tooting your horn every once
in a while.)
3. Teething. Good lord-stop the teething!
4. A cold or bug. She's had a sort-of dry cough and slightly runny nose. But could that be the teeth? Her
fever is gone anyway...
5. Gas. Isn't this always the go-to?
6. The moon. I've always been a skeptic when it comes to blaming behavior on the phases of a sky high
glowing object, but as I log years as a Kindergarten teacher under my belt, my cynicism towards people
with this rationale has slowly been diminishing. So as I woke up for the zillionth time last night and
noticed that that blaring light that was coming through my drawn curtains was not from the rising sun
(no people-it was 2:45 in the morning), but from the alarmingly full moon dangling above my house, I
convinced myself that I am raising a wolf. (It would explaining the barking, growling, and biting, too.)
As much as I'd like to believe it's rationale number 2, it has become clear that the moon has taken over my happy, sleeping through the night doll-baby. So speaking of tooting horns, I think for now I'll just shine hers up. She might as well look cute while tearing up our world!