“Emma. Now that your baby is 10 months old, let’s see how you’ve been coping when the baby is…”
“Check!” I say, happily.
“Check!” I say, cheerfully.
“… has a dirty nappy?”
“Check!” I smile, proudly.
“Check!” I beam, serenely.
Yes. Teething. The monstrous, horrific, all consuming terror, worry, anxiety and lack of sleep that comes for the whole family unit, when a little baby is cutting its first teeth.
Why is it so bad? Because there is so little you can really do about it.
Amelia now has 6 teeth ‘through’ the gum. Two bottom front teeth are totally up (and looking very cute) and the two top front teeth are properly poking through, although not completely down yet, and the next two top teeth are ‘just’ through the gum. It’s taken copious amounts of tears, rocking, teething gels and powders, baby medicine, lullabies, cuddles, teething toys and we have, at several points, even resorted to prayer; I kid you not. (We aren’t the most Holy-of-Rollers, so I’m not sure God was going to be moving quickly on that one, what with all the war, famine and poverty in the world, but it was worth a try.)
I feel so sorry for her when her teeth are giving her hassle. I know its natural and normal, but it does make me wonder about how horrible nature can be, letting a little baby go through such discomfort and pain in order to grow their teeth, just to have them fall out a few years later, and then the whole process begins again. But at least by then they understand what is happening to them.
One good thing about the new teeth appearing is teaching her to brush them. It’s quite a novelty for her, and she claps her hands with excitement when she sees the toothbrush coming towards her – she loves the taste of it, so we have no worries on that score.
So we only have 6 down and 14 more to go…
Anyone got a time machine?