It’s been so long.
Ah, it feels quite nice to settle in to just the right spot on my couch (call me Shelly) and chat with you. Or write at you. All of yous who listen. Or read. And because you come back and read, I’m so sorry I disappeared for so long. I’ll try not to do it ever again. But I can’t make any promises. I have an almost-nine-month-old boy, if you weren’t already aware.
To the point: teething bites. Pun intended. In fact, I erased “sucks” because bites is so much better in this context. I digress…
Aidan sprouted two teeth since we last spoke. And it was hell on stroller wheels for two solid weeks. So far, what I’ve learned is, one bad week per new tooth. (I’ll let you know if this equation proves to be correct.) His came in back to back.
By bites, I mean does not sleep, eats less (therefore is hungry more often), fusses a lot, and wants to be held constantly. Don’t get me wrong. I love cuddles. But toting a 25-pounder that’s trying to jump out of your arms and fussing when he’s not in them, that gets tough after a while. In fact it gets tough the first couple hours. It wears you down after the first few days. And it almost breaks you after a week.
Not to mention the pain he’s probably experiencing. Of course none of us remember how painful it is to sprout teeth. But (I hope) we’ve all been to the dentist. And most everything at the dentist pretty much bites.
Then the dust settles, and he recovers. Not only recovers, but makes progress in the sleep department. Big win.
But just when we were getting comfortable again, he reminded us he’s got 18 more baby teeth that have to rear their painful heads. We’ve only just begun. And with that, I’m off to bed if I want to get any sleep between his wake-ups.
P.S. While we’ve established how much teething bites, I’d like to point out that the toothy grin that follows is simply precious. A little something to look forward to…