All fours

It seems like not too long, we had a teeny, tiny preemie who, for the longest time, couldn’t even hold his neck steady. Now we’ve got a big, burly 8-and-a-half-month-old boy who has four teeth and is just about to crawl!

James has been inching around the floor for a week or so, bum in the air and face on the ground in such a manner that he is more likely to get rugburn on his forehead than actually reach his intended destination. Occasionally, he’ll get up on all fours; usually, the fruit of his efforts is little more than a bit of rocking followed by more face planting. But yesterday, all the stars and planets aligned properly and, for the first time ever, James took two little crawl-paces! (And then promptly fell on his face and cried.)

I’ve set about trying to babyproof the living room, which is easier said than done. I’ve removed everything “chokey and pokey,” such as crayons, Barbies and the beloved broom, from Maddi’s toybox a half-dozen times and explained to her that these things belong in her bedroom or the dining room. But every time I turn around, I find a new product of Maddi’s frequent “shopping trips” she likes to take around the house — a pointy dinosaur tail here, a Mr. Potato Head nose there — right in the middle of the living room. Again. Needless to say, I spend a lot of time scanning the floor for things that I’ve already removed.

Today, it was an orange crayon. I took Maddi to the potty and returned to discover James grinning and covered in gleaming day-glo slime. Photos are in the offing!

In other news, his fourth tooth made an appearance. As expected, it was the left lateral upper incisor, and he is well on his way to a very unique smile indeed. (And, as some have been quick to point out, to the orthodontist!)

Jaws

Don’t go in the water James’ mouth.

James is a teething boy and he’s not afraid to let you know, by way of a swift and deadly chomp. OK, it’s not deadly, but sometimes the pain inflicted by his cute little teeth is such that one might, for a brief and fleeting moment, wish for death.

James’ first two teeth have been drilling their way through his glistening gums for nearly a month now, and while I expected he’d get some top teeth shortly, I didn’t expect one quite so soon — especially the one we got.

James had been cranky and poopy to such an extent that his caretaker at the gym was worried he was sick yesterday. The only giveaway that our wee boy was teething lay in his suspiciously luscious apple cheeks and the bounty of drool gushing forth onto his shirt, his bib and countless unsuspecting victims.

And today, while he was having a little scream, I took a look at his upper gums and sure enough, there was the tiniest razor-sharp ridge poking through like the first bud of spring. But it wasn’t the first incisor, as one would expect. Rather, it appears James will be getting his second incisors first, which will likely leave a bit of a gaptoothed smile reminiscent of a first-grader until his first incisors come in.

Also sticking around for a while, we suspect, will be his new biting habit. While I am his usual victim, he has been known to suck on his hand, accidentally snap his deadly jaws down upon it, and then scream himself silly. It would be cute if it weren’t so sad!