Brandrea

A strange thing happened today. I was playing with Cora in her room and her mild fussiness suddenly became a loud cry. I looked at her and saw something strange. Immediately I stuck my finger in her mouth and rubbed it around, touching something completely foreign but also familiar. Her slick baby gums had been punctured by two rough ridges. I shouted for Brad, who immediately ran for the Orajel, while I briefly pontificated (possible?) on how I read something once about Orajel not being the best choice, blah blah, google, blah. He ignored me (totally fine in this scenario) and then I gave her some teething tablets after the Orajel application.

Never mind that we hadn’t checked her temperature all day. Neither had we tried any investigative methods to figure out the reason for the fussiness earlier in the day. But once we felt teeth, we promptly started handing out meds like candy.

After one minute, two minutes maximum, the excitement had died down. That’s when I started crying. I felt like I did not know this little one in my arms. I don’t have a daughter with teeth, so who is this?! Obviously, she is still Cora, still my daughter and still the same tousled-haired baby I took out of the crib this morning. But she is also changing, and sometimes, like today’s sudden discovery of two emerging teeth, I don’t even realize it. Unlike the first bike ride without training wheels or the walk across the stage at graduation, some of the moments of change will come unheralded. I will wake up, look at her and wonder. I think that is the best part of parenting. The Wonder.

Cora woke up little while ago, possibly disrupted by the teething pains. Brad held her for a while, but he said she kept looking around, looking for me. She loves her daddy (She tracked him down all day long while he was working from home, no matter what distractions I threw out there.) but in that moment she wanted me. I was happy to oblige, because I needed her for a little while. We cuddled, I rocked, she nuzzled. I slipped her pacifier out and rubbed her bottom gums. I needed to get acquainted with these new parts. I needed to get re-acquainted to my baby, the one who will now chew differently, nurse differently, smile differently. As she continues to grow, I am excited to learn more about my daughter in every new phase and to guide her through each new part.

On Friday, I was feeling a little stir-crazy and overwhelmed and it just so happened to be a beautiful day outside. After taking Cora to play in the clover patches in the backyard (while deftly circumventing the dog droppings…), I decided we should take as much advantage of the day as possible. I needed one more ingredient for dinner and rather than pack up in the car for it, I thought it would be fun to walk to the Wal-Mart a little over a half a mile away. It involved crossing one “major” street, but it is a part of the road where the speed limit is 25 mph and really isn’t that crowded most of the day. I figured it would be a great little trip to take advantage of the weather. After I changed a diaper, let the dog out, got Cora a bottle of juice, grabbed a snack, my cell phone, keys and a hat to protect her fair-skinned head, we started to set out. (Oh, and I went back and grabbed my iPod, which I never actually used. I decided to not go back in and change my shirt once I realized that i would be getting a farmer’s tan with my tshirt – what’s one more random tan line?)

As we got closer to the “major” road, I got a little nervous about crossing. There was no crosswalk. (Does that make me a jaywalker?) I decided to continue on the side of the road (no sidewalks, boo) until I felt like there was a decent break in traffic to make my crossing the safest possible. As I was walking between cross streets I saw the perfect space open up. I rushed to the road ahead and then (not so) calmly sprinted across the road. I felt pretty good about it until I looked down and realized that Cora was no longer holding her sippy cup. I started having flashbacks to our family Valentine’s evening (a story for another time) and desperately scanned over the street I had just crossed. Fortunately it was not in the middle of the big road, but it was at the front of the cross street, just waiting for some unsuspecting mini van to crush it to bits. I said a couple PG words and waited for another pause in traffic. As I spotted the perfect moment to cross, Cora’s hat blew off and flopped around behind us a few feet away. I panicked, but managed to snatch it up before it went too far, and then hurried across and grabbed the sippy cup. Darn sippy cup.

At this point, I was considering going back home. But what would all this pain and misery be for if I did not press onward? It would be for naught. So we crossed one more time to get where we needed to be. The rest of the trip was through some mostly peaceful neighborhood roads, save a large (fenced-in) German shepherd and a noisy Latino group tearing up part of the road. During this part of the trip I noticed that Cora’s feet were exposed and getting a lot of sun. I realized on the trip back the sun would shine even more directly on them. After insulting myself for not thinking of putting socks on her little feet, I tried to come up with a solution. I had no extra material of any kind to use to cover and protect her! I finally decided I would solve the problem once we finished our shopping trip. After making our purchase, I took the food out of the plastic bag and put it in the basket under the stroller. Then Cora’s feet went inside the Wal-Mart sack, with the top part of the bag tucked under her little bottom so it would not blow away! I’m sure we looked a little funny, but it made my mommy-heart worry a little less.

Oh – and on the way home, we crossed the “major” road without a hitch.