Mr Mom - Day 2

The morning passed uneventfully – that's a good thing these days. No Kaelstorms, only sunny skies blessed our apartment as it is did our city.

Our little guy is teething though. Aside from his chubby cheeks which are the colour of poppies, there was also another not so subtle sign when we put him down for a nap. Basically, he would square his jaw in such a way that it made him look like a grumpy old senior with constant arthritis. I couldn't figure out what was going on. “What's he doing?”, I wondered aloud. “His teeth, the ones we can't see yet on top, that are bothering him.” Sure enough, upon closer inspection, he was gnawing rhythmically on his upper gums with his two recent and sharp-edged bottom teeth. I guess it's like having a sore tooth, you keep wanting to touch it, just to make sure it still hurts (Ow!, yep). Babies don't think that way yet, do they? To help him out, Michele initiates what she calls the teething dance, alternating between a wet cloth, his teething ring (not to be confused with his preciouses that he gums when he eats) and a carrot every five minutes or so to soothe them until he tires out enough to doze off.

I was left in charge pretty much the whole afternoon as Michele took advantage of me being home to go to the mall to buy some things in preparation for the wedding. I did not want to go to the mall. In fact, I hate the mall. I don't hate many things, but the mall is one of them. If you ever want to see me grumpy, take me to the mall, on a Saturday, when it's a beautiful sunny day outside.

Lord K and I had lunch date on the patio, rolled around together on the floor, sang French songs, ate books, drooled lots, stared off into space together (he certainly picked up that personality trait from daddy) and did all that other every day normal stuff.

The big outing for the day consisted of a jaunt out to the local park to do something real summery: a trip to the water park. I was real good, remembering to apply baby sunscreen, bring his water bottle, put on his sun hat and even Flea-proof the house (she rummages through the garbage just to spite us when go out without her) before going. When we parked in the shade at the park, I stripped off his pants and beelined towards the screeching kids and spraying water. I anticipated a refreshing splash, but we both received a shock instead. The water felt like it was sourced directly from one of the melting ice caps. And if I found it freezing, I can only imagine that Kael's sensitive skin had his nervous system ringing the alarm bells. So instead of getting right in there, something I tend to be overly fond of doing, we hung out on the periphery, standing in a 2 mm deep puddle, happily watching the other kids play.

I was surprised that Michele still wasn't home when we returned. I felt mildly panic-stricken as I knew he needed another nap, but was also keenly aware that a nap is pretty much out of the question without momma's milk. Since he was already seemingly content in the stroller, I made a quick decision to grab Flea and keep moving. There was a time when he would fall asleep in the stroller, but those days are long gone. There's a whole world of sensory pleasures to explore now.

And then it happened, the one thing I dreaded most. He began to cry. What I thought was just his gangsta lean was more like the result of having squirmed himself into an uncomfortable sideways position that even a contortionist would have found awkward.

Can I tell you that nothing – no thing – stresses me out more than my baby crying? Can you tell I'm a new parent? I try to console him by putting on my happy voice and telling, “Hey little buddy, there's nothing to worry about. It's a beautiful day and all is right in the Universe”. He doesn't buy it. Apparently my Universe and his are in different galaxies. So I quicken the pace to an almost jog to try to get home as fast as possible while cooing “almost there, almost there”. Poor Flea doesn't even have a chance to poop. We make it home without incident, He is fussy but at least there is no storm to blemish this lovely afternoon. Mommy is home and it isn't long before he is suckling. All is well.

You know, it's funny. A several hundred thousand dollar transaction goes awry at work and it doesn't stress in my least, but when my baby boy lets out one single wail and my whole body, from head to toe, starts to panic.