January 29, 2007 | Mama Smith

a bluesy monday

Brighton’s sixteeth tooth is putting up quite a fight as it attempts to make it’s way up through the gums. After a day full of tears and general whininess, I took a look inside and noticed the swollen blue gums from his fourth molar and had my mommy “ah-ha” moment. It’s pathetic, I know, but for some reason the crankiness is easier to take when there’s a definite reasoning attached to it.

So it was a fairly bluesy Monday. Brighton’s totally taken with his dad’s harmonica he recently found. He’ll wail away on it, dancing along to his tunes.

He also enjoyed checking out the snow we got last night through the window. That’s about as close as he got all day though. We only braved the cold long enough to dash over to the haircutter across the street for a much-needed trim on the boy and down to the co-op and back for some necessary groceries. The winds didn’t help make the enjoying nature part very easy.

And just a short story from today that is all too close to home. In the sense of, this was so me as a child. Sneaky, little manipulator…

Our recycling is under the table in our kitchen. Brighton knows this is off limits. Especially the beer bottles, his favorite off-limits item we’ve discovered (this is where he takes after his dad). Today I heard him being oh-so-quiet and knew he was getting into the bottles. He began to head to his bedroom, not in the normal manner of chatting and running down the hall, but instead being very, very quiet and walking very, very slowly. I was in the den and began to walk and see what was going on. His steps became a lot quicker when he heard me coming and as I came into view he quickly darted into his bedroom. As I came around the corner he quickly threw the bottle on the ground and said “No. Noooo!”, which is what he does when he knows he shouldn’t touch something. Like he’s telling us that he knows it’s off limits, even though he’s obviously touching it. I asked him to bring me the bottle because he knew it wasn’t a toy and he quickly said “Sorry, sorry, sorry” trying to make up before a punishment could ensue, like time in the Listening Chair. Oh the fallen human heart. He’s a smart one, that boy. Rousseau obviously hadn’t met boys like him when he made his bold claim that children are born innocent. I don’t think society taught him this level of sneakiness.

“ No cameras, no cameras. I’m innocent, I tell you! Innocent! “

I’ll end on a good note for the poor teething guy though…. a shot of Papa & B being boys. Most days he can’t wait for his dad to get home to give him some good ol’ hearty rough-housing time, after being thwarted all day from his attempts to jump on my belly and wrestle with his not-in-the-mood pregnant mom.

It’s now a quiet night on the homefront. With B snoozing peacefully, Matthew finishing up some freelancing, I’m off to catch up the many books overwhelming my nightstand and finish sewing the cover for our rocker/glider chair thing that we bought before Brighton came along. I’ve been meaning to sew a cover to replace the hideous tan, pink & blue plaid for…oh, 2 years now??

And if you’re really bored tonight, check out this old video post from last winter. I can’t even believe how old Brighton is now, and that he’ll soon be a big brother for another little shrimp just like he was back then! Nice mohawk too.