Mini Gwinn has attempted to suck my blood, or at the very least, gummed my shoulders, hands and face. He is a drooling, grumbling mess of a six month old baby. Over the weekend he cut one of his canine teeth (there is a tiny little bud sticking out- adorable and disconcerting all at once), and it looks like the other is soon on its way. As an avid sci- fi and fantasy fan, I’m quite happy that mine is a vampire child, complete with vampire teeth and a suddenly nocturnal nature, but also missing my previously happy and cuddly baby boy that was sleeping peacefully for thirteen hours a night (for real).
Teething, I’ve been told, lasts until children are seventeen years old, give or take a few years. This concerns me, largely because he’s not going to be adorable or cuddly ever again. His funny personality has been overcome by a perpetually grouchy persona that, when paired with incessant drooling, completely detracts from his good looks. Rather than having strangers approach us wherever we go to tell me how beautiful my baby is, we now part the crowds like Moses and the Red sea so they can avoid this howling terror.
To make matters worse, I managed to injure myself while attempting plyometrics a few weeks ago. Super. My options are a) quit running, b) physical therapy, and/or c) surgery. I’ve worked on giving my stupid knee time and rest to heal, but between constantly moving to appease vampire mini Gwinn and my absolute need to stay active, rest really isn’t an option.
To add insult to injury, my car has finally been put out to pasture. That blissful hour of escape from mini Gwinn at the gym (God bless those sweet women in child care at our gym) has been stolen from me. Captain Laser Pants is buying me a new mom-mobile (no minivans, people) in the next few days, but until then, I am (mostly) homebound with a monster attempting to convert me to his vampiric, nocturnal ways. We’ve been walking through our absolutely wonderful neighborhood, but that’s not exactly rest for the old knee.
So, I’m carrying around this nineteen pound six month old (he’s a giant vampire- a new breed of monster for the horror films) all day, letting him gum my shoulder and scream at me when he’s uncomfortable (I really do feel terrible that he’s in pain, honestly). My right arm and hand have been going numb from the weight, and I’m fairly certain I’ve lost hearing in my right ear. Perhaps, after the new car purchase, I should look into a bionic right half of a body to buy.
Can vampires turn robots?