Eight. This number represents intense suffering, a river of tears and an endless succession of sleepless nights. This also happens to be the average number of times in an hour that I have given serious thought to skipping town and joining the circus. And as we were clued in yesterday by Doogie Howser, M.D., this is also the number of teeth that Danny has slicing through his gums.
Dr. Howser also informed us that teething can cause loose stools, low-grade fever, an interruption in sleeping patterns and a ticked off baby. I have been enlightened! Teething causes a miserable child!? And here I thought he'd been irked by the most recent job report. I wasn't sure, but now I know. It's not the state of the economy, it's his teeth.
What's the big deal about teeth anyway? Enough people have figured out how to gum their way through a surf and turf that we should have figured out by now that this teething business is not only overrated, but completely unnecessary. And this is obviously why God invented food processors, so that those who are tooth-challenged may enjoy the same opportunities as those who are fully toothed.
I'd much rather pop in a set of dentures for my little guy every morning than to deal with a miserable toddler in distress, especially without the ability to indulge in alcohol. Yet another reason why moms of toddlers should wait until their first child graduates college before considering hopping back aboard the pregnancy train. I know experienced moms can empathize with my suffering. It's a wailing, screaming, kicking, sippy throwing, head slamming, punching, open-handed pimp slapping, throwing random objects at strangers in the grocery store, sleep depriving, hair pulling, dog abusing, food protesting, jolly good time. And experienced moms also know, this perpetual hell happens over and over and over again, until your battered toddler has a mouth full of tiny pearly white razors. And then if you have more children, you get to experience the joy of teething times 20 all over again!
I wish I could've written a post on how to survive this ninth circle of toddler hell instead of just complaining about it. But to be honest, I don't have all the answers. I give him his infant tylenol, some teething tablets, sing him one of his favorite jams - I've Been Workin' on the Railroad, or play an episode of Backyardigans as a futile attempt to distract him from the pain. If none of the above work, water ice or freeze pops are a more immediate and desperate solution. But desperate times calls for desperate measures, because a teething totzilla hopped up on sugar could make even a honey badger tremble in hiding under his honey badger bed.
Of course, I try to save the sugar loading method to when Danny is headed out to his grandparents' house for the day. Sorry mom and dad. Love you guys.
In the meantime, I pray and I scream and I cry that it ends just as quickly as it came. And I'm sure that by now, the neighbors are likely thinking the same.
Please, help a sista' out and share your teething remedies!
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