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.