Saturday, February 16, 2008
Day 147 - Drooooool
Recently, our kids have become a gigantic slobber machine. From the moment they wake up to the time they go to bed their oral orifice is slathered with spit. Lisa and I tried to make sure the kids and our furniture were wiped clean from this mess, but it has become a futile battle against infant saliva. It was a very good idea that we decided against buying a new sofa when the kids were born. It was an even better idea that we decided against painting all of our furniture and walls with watercolors.
Between 4 and 7 months, babies begin teething. We haven't seen any signs of teeth inside their mouths yet, but all signs point towards future bloody nursing nipples. Let's go through the check list of teething signs:
1) Runny nose? Nope. Not even dried boogies.
2) Poor mood? Occasionally, but Lisa is back to her cheery self after half a pint of vodka.
3) Loss of appetite? You kidding? Have you seen Picture Friday?
4) Chewing of objects? You bet. Mostly fingers, fists, and buffalo chips.
5) Swelling in gums? The only swelling we notice are in the diapers after feedings.
6) Excessive salivation? Yes, yes, and YES.
Not an overwhelming majority of checks, but enough to make us suspect that teeth are on the horizon.
With this constant stream of drool, there was an embarrassing incident that took place a few days ago. Both Emma and Andrew were on the floor doing tummy time, and Emma started to get fussy. The way we know Emma is done with tummy time is when she starts to cry and her face is flat on the floor because her neck muscles can't muster any more strength to keep her noggin up. When I swooped her off the floor, a gigantic web of drool got all over her face.
"Oh no! Sorry Emma. I got drool all over you," I apologized to Emma.
Then Lisa chimed in from the kitchen, "What happened? Did Emma drool all over herself?"
And I answered after a brief pause, "No...I drooled all over Emma."
Yup that's right. It was my drool all over Emma. I don't know what happened. I bent over to pick her up, and when I opened my mouth to say "Emma" a big blob of spit came out. Perhaps with drool on my mind (and Emma's head), I subconsciously did it to her. Let's just hope my subconscious doesn't kick into gear when we start potty training.