Teeth and Swords

Midi Minx was up 4 times in the night (Monday), sneakily waiting till she could hear a pair of snores from our bedroom before creeping back to our bedside and wailing affectedly. “What’s wrong, L?  You’re not even crying any tears!”  “My tears don’ woooooork!” she pouted.  Yes.  Just like your big sister.

Mini started up her banshee cries around 0415hrs.  Thank goodness I’ve not dried up yet – when changing her nappy, cuddles, rocks and snuggles in my bed (last resort) didn’t stop her screeches, it was sheer heaven for my poor ears to just whip out a boob.  Instant silence.  Well, except for the slurps (she’s a noisy and messy eater).  Though to be fair she then whimpered on and off all bloomin’ night.  I think she finally fell asleep about 0600hrs.

So you can imagine how grumpy I got being awoken by a wet slobbery mouth cupping over my nose, closely followed by a jab of a 14 month old finger right up my left nostril.  Crikey, I think she managed to tickle my brain.  When I yelled in shock and horror, she giggled and shrieked in triumph.  Minx!

I guess the reason for all the hassle was that she cut her 5th tooth (remaining top incisor, her left) yesterday (23rd May).  So I guess soon she’ll have a normal baby smile rather than her current jagged, higgledy-piggledy mouth.

new baby teeth
It soon may be time to stop breastfeeding. Like, last month…

So, the lack of sleep was a bit telling on Tuesday and I let The Boss have the car, because I certainly wasn’t fit to drive.  I really, really wanted to go to Forres to see RAF Kinloss personnel march through one last time before the squadrons are disbanded, but (a) it was a tad too stormy for 3 little girls to stand around in – I think the gusting wind would have blown over the double buggy, and (b) there was no way I could get them all there by public transport – the only buses en-route are coach type ones that have huge steep steps that you can’t get a buggy up.  Crikey, I don’t think I could dead-arm a collapsed buggy up those steps, never mind haul all 3 girls up, too.  And don’t start me on letting my eldest 2 minxes loose on a coach with me not hovering right over them…  So we didn’t go, and I resolved to just think about them, and watch via YouTube later.

 Anyway, as the kids insisted that they *did* want to see marching people, I dug out a very, very old video that happened to have me in it shouting a lot and incompetently waving a sword around. And it had a band and lots of marching. I thought the kids would be bored stiff, but they watched the entire thing.  Midi giggled about all the people “walking like a choo-choo” and Maxi squealed every time she saw me.  “Oooo Mummy, you’re so tiny!  Everyone’s taller than you!” she helpfully and tactfully pointed out.  Even Mini turned round when she heard my distant roar through the tv.  If only they’d obey my commands so readily…

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