Well, believe it or not, Avram is now seven months old. He is officially more than half way through the first year of his life. How did this happen? He was just born like, last week. It's like he's going to wake up from his next nap and start driving, popping zits, and telling me how uncool I am.
He is just such a big guy. He's teething right now, which has just been an absolute joy. My snuggly bubba bear has suddenly morphed into this Raging Drool Monster who gums and bites everything in sight. He refuses to be put down (or to sleep); if I try to put him in his crib or play-mat he clings on to me like a crazed Koala. J and I took turns kicking each other out of bed all night to rock and bounce and walk the Doctor of Drool-Doom.
Tylenol seems to barely make a dent in his suffering, and he turns his nose up at teething toys, like he's too mature for them. He tries his corn-on-the-cob routine up and down my arm, which seems to offer a little relief (well, for him....different story for my arm).
Oh, and I should also mention that Ave had his first cold this week. The poor bubba has been slinging snot bombs left and right. The kid can't get a break these days.
It's been a fun week.
Despite how miserable he is, he's still just so unbelievably charming. I was letting him hang out in his swing this morning, mostly because it keeps him upright (meaning, it keeps his snot running down his face instead of stuck in his nose). He was just sitting there, all full of self-loathing and misery, sort of whimpering under his breath and staring into space.
"Hey you! Why the long face?"
And I swear, he turned, looked at me, relaxed his eyes, and slowly gave me this sly, wide-mouthed, gummy grin, like he was McDreamy or something.
What a flirt.