The curse of teeth

Ahhh ... teething. What can I say to you? You are not welcome in this house. I wish you gone. You have managed to turn my sweet, smiley baby into a cranky, clingy, crying, non-sleeping one. Go away teething. Out. Now.

I would like to introduce everyone to the face of Charlotte that I have been seeing most recently.

Yes, I know. This is not a pretty picture. Charlotte is currently getting all four top teeth at once. She only had two bottom teeth at her first birthday, and I guess her mouth decided to play catch-up. So, one more came on the bottom, then her four top. This has been miserable. For both Charlotte and anyone around Charlotte.


To be fair to Charlotte, I know this is an awful experience. Well, I actually don't know, as I don't remember my own teething experience. But, just think about it: Sharp, hard, pointy things are moving down, at an excruciatingly slow pace, and jabbing their way through your swollen, tender gums. All at an age when you can't form words to tell anyone about it, and you don't understand enough words to comprehend the perfectly logical explanation of it. If it weren't a completely natural part of life, I'm pretty sure teething would be on the Geneva Convention's torture list, and we'd have Amnesty International knocking on our door, ready to investigate.


And, it's not just torture to the one getting the teeth. As parents, we've spent the first few several many months of a child's life just figuring out how to get them enough food, and teaching them how to sleep through the night and be awake during the day. We're just getting to the fun part where the child is responsive, laughing and doing stuff to make us laugh. Then ... WHAM! We're back to the crying when set down, not sleeping through the night, and only eating what feels good on those gums. It's not just a step backward; it's a giant hopscotch leap to the rear.

I know I shouldn't compare my kids, but I swear Molly wasn't this bad. I'm not sure if my hindsight glasses are rose-tinted or if I've just blocked it from my conciousness, but I do not remember going through this torture when Molly was first getting teeth. Maybe Charlotte already has second-child syndrome and is trying to one-up her big sis.

The only things that can even sometimes comfort Charlotte are being held while being allowed to do previously off-limits things. Things like playing with Mom's cell phone or emptying Mom's wallet. She has already lost two insurance cards from my wallet, and has learned how to open the keyboard on my sliding phone. So, if you get a strange text or Facebook update from me, you'll know what to blame: teething.

My one ray of hope is now that I can finally feel the sharp little buggers in Charlotte's mouth, the pain will lessen and she will return to the happy, smiley, laughing child I once knew. But it's not like I'm counting down the seconds or anything.

Check out those top four bad boys.

1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi, 3 Mississippi ...