whale

i'm so pumped that ella picked my 32nd week of pregnancy (big as a whale time) to cut her molars. she is a late bloomer with her teeth, so we didn't really have to deal with the "teething baby" problems... but now we have to deal with the "teething toddler" problems, which aren't much more pleasant. she has been awake 4 out of the last 5 nights. (i'm in zombie mode.) the weird thing is, she doesn't seem like she is in pain...she just wants to be with us. (in our bed.) now, i've written about the joys of this before...but as i pulled her big toe out of my nose and her stuffed monkey out of my ass at 2am, i was truly at the end of my rope. she had been up since 12:30am, when i finally carried her back over to her bed and told her that it was time to sleep. as i went to put her in her crib, she was clinging to me like a spider monkey yelling "nononono!" (gees, kid, i'm not trying to dip you in hot wax! it's your bed!) i peeled her off me and tried to block out the screams as i went through her bedroom door. our dog was staring at me in the hallway at this point, which (at 2am) in dog language is "i need to take a shit"...so i went downstairs to let her out.

while downstairs, i heard ella losing. her. mind. in her crib. i mean, jumping up and down and screaming "MOMMY, MOMMY, MOMMY, MOMMY!" at the tippy top of her lungs. choking on her own snot. shaking the slats on the crib. it was so bad that when i opened her door, i fully expected a scene from the exorcist...her head spinning around in circles and pea soup spewing out of her mouth. of course, when she saw me...she stopped immediately and did the "i can barely catch my breath" cry, so relieved that i didn't move to zimbabwe in the 2 minutes that i was gone. up until this point, butch was sleeping...through the entire charade. he then stumbled out into the hallway (bird flappin in the breeze) and said, "what the hell is going on?" i said, "a little help would be nice...i'm exhausted." he looked me in the eyes (well, one of my eyes was pasted shut) and said, "i have a toothache, and i really need to sleep." (oh, okay...wait, WHAT?!) i'm very surprised my head didn't start spinning in circles...but instead of losing my shit on him, i kindly said (dripping with sarcasm), "well then you better go into the guest room...nancy" (before i punch you in the testicles).

what i was thinking was...a TOOTHACHE?! (a TOOTHache.) here i am, i've been pregnant for 8 months (212 days)...a human being is LIVING inside of me, i just worked 9 hours, came home, made dinner, did 2 loads of laundry, cleaned up the house, all the while looking and feeling like a large sea mammal...and you have a TOOTHACHE?! wanna trade, big guy?! i'll take your toothache any day of the week! (men are such sallys) at 3am...ella was still awake and we were watching mickey on the laptop in bed. (well, she was watching. i had my eyes shut, willing minnie to pull out a pistol and shoot mickey directly in the suspenders.) finally, when i couldn't take one more goofy giggle from that mouse, i put her back into her crib around 3:30am. she pulled the exorcist scam for about 2 minutes and then passed out. 


soon after, i could hear nancy's phone alarm go off in the guest room at 5:30am. there was silence between us while making coffee and breakfast. (the kind of tension that i could've cut with the butter knife that i was using to spread the cream cheese on my bagel.) after i dropped ella with the sitter at 6:45am, i was very close to veering east on route 50 towards the bay bridge (rather than west). the reason? i was so tired that the thought of work made me want to swan dive right over that beast of a bridge...however, i don't think my landing wouldn't have been like that of a graceful swan. i'm fairly certain it would've been more of a belly flop like that of a large whale...but hey, at least i didn't have a toothache.