By some grace of God, we survived last week. I'm honestly not sure how. I have had a horrible headache, going on a week now, which sucks by anyone's standards, but when you're a mom it's like the worst, EVER. When it rains it pours, right? Well, Cooper was a mess last week. He is cutting two teeth at the moment, and he is letting everyone know that he is NOT happy! Whiney, crying, needing to be held All.The.Time. He has also started throwing tantrums. Not like I'm going to whine a bit when I don't get my way.. but legit kicking, screaming, air flailing kind of tantrums. I thought I had a few more years before this started.. Aren't they called the Terrible Twos, not the Terrible 9 Months? Leave it to Cooper to be super advanced. He also wants to get into EVERYTHING, including the empty pop can that I was carrying to the garbage while simultaneously carrying him (since he doesn't want to be put down, see my dilemma here?). This lead to him sticking his finger in the pop can hole and slicing his finger open. Splendid. Thankfully he didn't cry, until I had to pin him down to put a Band-Aid on it because it would not stop bleeding and he was making my house look like a crime scene. After a bit of a struggle, we were able to put on our first official (not from a shot at the doctor's office) Band-Aid. The first of many, I'm sure. 15 minutes later, I realized I am going to have to invest in some tougher Band-Aids because CJ had already gotten the Band-Aid off and was trying to eat it. Again, splendid. Thank the Lord that it was bedtime at this point so with the blood massacre coming to a halt, Cooper beyond exhausted, and this Mama needing a glass bottle of wine, I put the munchkin to bed and we called it a night.
We finished the week off with a pretty chill weekend. We visited AJ's grandparents and the hung out at home the rest of the weekend, watching the NHL All Star skills competition and game and trying to keep the kid amused with his 2304834058203 toys that are so not entertaining in comparison to crawling all over the house and finding every bit of fuzz/dog hair/ crumb that could possibly be on the floor and trying to ingest it followed by attempting to pull himself up on any available wall/piece of furniture/human being/pet. I swear I could hibernate for a month after this week and I could still probably use more sleep.
Poor Babe
Yes, that dog moves. No, he doesn't care.
(Yes, we're still wearing Christmas jams because nothing else fits right now and Mama needs to go jam shopping)
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