Care-bear (yes, that is her cheesy nickname, but it came about organically, as my brother Jared was Jare-bear growing up and so naturally we started calling her Care-bear, except there actually ARE Care Bears so it's not as cute, or maybe that makes it cuter and where was I going with this?). Oh, yes. Care-bear, my girl Carys, is not enjoying being one. Well, she enjoyed the first couple weeks, but these last two days she's decidedly taken a stand against it.
Grump-ass, I believe the technical term would be.
Yes, she is grumpy. I know this is the stereotypical, bitchy, braggy mom thing to say, but she is normally SO good and joyful and happy that seeing her being whiny and crying for no apparent reason is mind boggling and I'm not used to it and I don't know how to handle it.
I'm pretty sure that her one-year molars are coming in and wrecking havoc on our happy little baby. I'm also pretty sure that I blame all of her mood swings on teeth, but I'm also pretty sure that they deserve the blame. I was reading on some website that teething pain is a myth and just a convenient scapegoat for desperate parents, and to that I say Fuck All You Lucky Ass Bastards Who Had Easy Teethers. I got uncomfortable when my wisdom teeth came in. Of course it hurts when sharp little pieces of bone push through actual living tissue replete with nerve endings.
Carys is not a bad teether, I guess. An occasionally irritating teether, perhaps, but not a bad-waking up in the night-crying constantly-angry teether. Just a slightly whiny and crying-y teether who doesn't know what she wants or how to ask for it (oh, the travesty of not being able to talk). When teething, she very clearly prefers cold foods - homemade popsicles made with fruit purees, whole milk, and yogurt are a fave. She drools a lot. She chews her fist. She bites (ok, this might just be normal toddler sensory exploration) (did I just call my baby girl a toddler?) (yes, I think I did) (can I take a moment to cry?).
And maybe the fretfulness isn't teething. It could also be the lack of sleep and routine and naps that she's had the last week. That's partly my fault; in my quest to squeeze every moment out of summer (and every moment of this time with my mom here before she goes back to being six hours away) I've been dragging her to concerts and dinners and events all over the city, and she's been going to bed late and she's been missing naps (though, of course, she still rises at the same inhumane hour of 6 or 7 am). Add that to the fact that she's slowly phasing out her afternoon nap but that she hasn't started to push her morning nap back yet (meaning she still goes down naturally a few hours after she wakes in the morning, but may not sleep again until bedtime eight hours after she woke up from her nap), and you have all the ingredients for a grumpy baby.
So it's either that or it's the molars. Or that one damn incisor that has been just barely peeking through for weeks.
Or may she just got sick of being little Miss Sparkle Happy Sunshine Bear all the time and wanted to remind us how damn lucky we are with her.
We know, kid. We know. Trust me. Every giggle reminds us.