Not cool dude...
Last night was rough. Cache is teething. On nights when he is teething I might as well drink a pot of coffee, chase it with a shot of Jack and half of a sheet cake to keep me up. Because then at least I'd have a buzz and might find the writhing around, headbutting, kicking, screaming, nursing, rolling pin with legs entertaining.
It was 11:45 and he had been tossing and turning, while latched on I might add, for over two hours. I was O V E R it. This on the heels of waking up at 4:00am for a few days just for funsies. I was taking deep breaths. You can do this. I know that window is tempting, but you will regret throwing the baby out of it.
Finally his body relaxed and I could feel myself drifting off into a much needed slumber when out of nowhere the rabid chipmunk tried to bite my nipple off. HOLY SHIT! He has bitten me a few times before, but nothing major. This was major. I know I'm being a bit dramatic here, but in my groggy state I honestly thought my poor nipple was hanging on by a thread. And really, is there ever actually TOO dramatic when referring to ones nipples?
Of course when he clamped down I gasped and shot up, pulling him off of the breast and scaring him half to death. I felt so bad for scaring him, but dude, my nipple! The next hour, yes, HOUR was spent calming him down while applying pressure to my throbbing boob. All I wanted to do was get him in a deep enough sleep to lay him down and go to the bathroom and assess the damage. Not happening.
Finally around 2ish I got him down and went to take a peek. Phew, the nipple is still attached, but owwwwie. Digging through my bathroom drawer in search of the nipple cream that had been pushed to the back, unnecessary for the past year or so, I began to become nostalgic. I opened the jar and breathed in the aroma. Instantly I was transported to those first few weeks of motherhood. The itty bitty fingers, the tiny cries, the sore nipples and the click of a nightlight I used to help guide a not yet perfected latch. Sigh
Fucking hormones making me forget how annoyed I am. And that my friends, is why we get up and do it all over again.
It was 11:45 and he had been tossing and turning, while latched on I might add, for over two hours. I was O V E R it. This on the heels of waking up at 4:00am for a few days just for funsies. I was taking deep breaths. You can do this. I know that window is tempting, but you will regret throwing the baby out of it.
Finally his body relaxed and I could feel myself drifting off into a much needed slumber when out of nowhere the rabid chipmunk tried to bite my nipple off. HOLY SHIT! He has bitten me a few times before, but nothing major. This was major. I know I'm being a bit dramatic here, but in my groggy state I honestly thought my poor nipple was hanging on by a thread. And really, is there ever actually TOO dramatic when referring to ones nipples?
Of course when he clamped down I gasped and shot up, pulling him off of the breast and scaring him half to death. I felt so bad for scaring him, but dude, my nipple! The next hour, yes, HOUR was spent calming him down while applying pressure to my throbbing boob. All I wanted to do was get him in a deep enough sleep to lay him down and go to the bathroom and assess the damage. Not happening.
Finally around 2ish I got him down and went to take a peek. Phew, the nipple is still attached, but owwwwie. Digging through my bathroom drawer in search of the nipple cream that had been pushed to the back, unnecessary for the past year or so, I began to become nostalgic. I opened the jar and breathed in the aroma. Instantly I was transported to those first few weeks of motherhood. The itty bitty fingers, the tiny cries, the sore nipples and the click of a nightlight I used to help guide a not yet perfected latch. Sigh
Fucking hormones making me forget how annoyed I am. And that my friends, is why we get up and do it all over again.
Comments
Post a Comment