Standing in the Crib Part Deux

Son #2 is really getting the hang of pulling himself to a standing position in the crib.

Today, I got home from work and walked into a silent and peaceful house.  Son #1 played quietly on the living room floor.  My brother was relaxing and watching tv.  My husband was surfing the internet and Son #2 was taking a nap in his crib. 

Bliss.

I sat down on the floor of my husband's office and chatted with him about the day.  After a moment my husband picked up the guitar and played a soothing tune.  I perused the day's mail.  Time passed and then we heard a squeaky little voice coming from the baby monitor.  Was he awake already?

Son #1 confirmed it.  "Mama, the baby's awake."

My husband walked into the baby's room.  Lo and behold our baby had pulled himself up to a standing position on his own.  He stood with a cheshire cat grin and then promptly bit the railing with delight.

He is such a big boy.

Standing in the Crib

Son #2 is obsessed with standing.  Every possible chance he gets, he wants to stand up.  When he is not standing, he is fussing. 

On day, Son #2 was playing in his crib when he spied the railing.  He scooted over to the railing determined to pull himself up.  Slowly, he reached up with his left hand and grasped the wooden railing.  Then, he began to reach up with his right hand.  He grasped the railing but was stunned to discover that he did not have the strength to pull himself to a standing position.  Son #2 was undaunted and made repeated tries to pull himself up. 

In the kitchen, my husband heard little baby grunts coming from Son #2's room.  He meandered to the room and stood in the doorway.  There he saw our sweet baby pulling with all his might and becoming frustrated by his inability to stand up.  My husband took pity on him and walked to the crib.  When Son #2 saw his daddy, he let out a small whimper.  My husband sat our little baby up beside the railing and placed both of his chubby, little hands on top of it.  Son #2 grinned with delight and pulled himself up.  Standing in his crib, Son #2 stuck out his tongue and smiled like the Cheshire Cat.  Then he cooed and bit the railing as hard as he could.  I can almost imagine him saying.  "I've conquered my Mt. Everest and now I will leave my mark!"

Teething

Son #2 is cutting a tooth.  I can see it beginning to poke through the gum line.  This jagged, sharp, and pointy front tooth is driving Son #2 crazy.

Last week, all Son #2 wanted was to be held.  He pushed the bottle away with disdain.  He turned up his nose to his toys.  His eyes would begin to close and just when we thought we could put him down to sleep, his eyelids would fly open  as he started to cry.  (The horror.)  The only thing that provided comfort was the boob or an icy cold teething ring.  (Noone has invented the icy cold teething boob so that was not an option.)  Sometimes we tricked him into taking a dab of Oragel.  Poor baby.

Tonight, after having a pretty pain free day, Son #2's mean little front tooth began to torture him again.  At first, he sucked on his hand.  The sucking increased in intensity as the pain set in.  Then he began to frantically reach for nearby toys in his basinette to suck on.  He sucked on the toys but to no avail.  Son #1 took pity on him and brought him Mr. Blue, Son #1's favorite stuffed animal.  Son #2 grabbed Mr. Blue and gummed him greedily in an attack dog manner. 

I think I'm scared.