Yesterday afternoon was hell. Absolute torture. Little Miss was sooooo whiny...I mean she was the Queen of Whine, Mistress of the Whimper, Creator of Crabby. Poor little thing is very obviously teething with the rivers of drool gushing out of her mouth and her incessant desire to chew everything, even the dog's ear. I do feel for her - it must be hard getting teeth, and they say the first couple of teeth are the worst.
As an aside, who the heck are 'they'? I mean, I certainly don't remember getting my first teeth - do you?
Anyway, I was at the end of my rope yesterday - the very last frayed end of a flimsy, nylon rope. Every minute not spent with a bottle or spoon jammed in between her little pink gums was filled with a long, drawn out whine. I tried playing with her, singing to her, carrying her around. I tried telling her stories, reading her books and acting goofy. I tried musical toys, cartoons on TV, and the Fisher Price swing. Nothing worked. Nothing.
Finally, in desperation, I decided to try changing her, and as soon as she was undressed, she was happy, not amazingly smiley happy, but also not whining. I laid her on the bedroom floor and plopped down beside her. Before long, she was chewing her toys and swinging her feet in the air. Yay! I always knew she liked her nakey time but clearly underestimated the power of it. From now on, when she's unhappy, I'm stripping her down...at least until she's three years old running through Walmart buck naked except for a princess crown she found in aisle 10 squealing at the top of her lungs. Then I may have to find a new way to calm her.