The smell of trouble?…. Rosemary.

We all have meltdowns on occasion.  Preferably, we stagger them so that someone maintains a certain level of rational thinking and emotional stability.  But really, who has time for strategic meltdown scheduling?

So, a couple of days ago we noticed Jakey’s first tooth: lower front right– I should have asked Dr. Castro what number that is yesterday during my cleaning.  Tangent:  This just in.  Google is amazing.  But of course everyone already knows this.  I mean really, what did people do before they had a choice of 312,000 images when searching for “baby tooth chart?”

This may be one of the reasons that he still wakes up in the middle of the night crying.  (On weeknights mind you.  On Friday nights he sleeps like an angel.)  The existence of his first lower central right incisor OR nightmares?  Charles perceptively pointed out that our distraction game, fondly called “Space Spider,” (where your hand becomes a spider from outer space that starts out far away and then comes closer and closer till it attacks Jakey’s face) might not be contributing to peaceful, tranquil dreams.  He may have a point.  Hopefully CPS is not trolling the blogosphere in search of bad parents implementing CIO with flourescent orange hunting earplugs while their baby thrashes about, tormented by Space Spiders.

 Anyway so we have our first tooth sighting.  Plus, as of tonight, Jake is officially crawling multiple feet…. backwards.  He reportedly stole someone else’s Cheerios at school.  He rebels by rolling over…. while nursing.  He clearly says baba.  And when the stress of his mommy’s last MBA class, her every-other-day job interviews, the new house remodel, and the logistics of moving send Baby Jacob over the edge….  he turns to nature for inner peace.

How do I know when such a troublesome evening has occurred while I’ve been at class?  What IS the smell of trouble?  In one word: Rosemary.

I know when it has been a rough night because I come home from class to find my sweet baby boy smells like rosemary.  Reeks of it really.  His grantmother taught him to pick leaves at Flatrock.  Thank goodness because picking rosemary seems to be a magical baby meltdown cure.  We really should invite our neighbors, the Grumplemooses, over to pick rosemary anytime Baby Brinn is feeling fussy.

Unfortunately picking rosemary does not seem to help Daddy meltdowns due to baby meltdowns.  Even though Jacob said dadadadadaDADA about a gazillion times (and for the first time) yesterday, his Dada has been known to hold a grudge well into the next morning.  We’re moving this Saturday.  Jacob better start picking rosemary now…. ’cause I may need to roll in it.