E has 3 molars coming in at the same time, and the fourth is not far behind. Um, I hate teething. It takes my sweet, funny, happy baby and turns her into what I can only describe as Baby Hulk.
Baby Hulk angry.
Baby Hulk smash.
Baby Hulk poop nasty teething-poops.
Baby Hulk growl at getting her teething-induced runny nose wiped.
Baby Hulk wake up way too freaking early and way too freaking crabby.
Seriously. Can I get my baby back now? I mean, the kid is growling at me right now as I type this. She is also hugging her lovey so intensely that I am worried his little stuffed monkey head may pop off. Oh the humanity!
I keep looking at those teething charts- you know the ones that tell you which teeth typically come in at what age, and the order they start showing up. Eisley is just blowing that chart out of the water. Geez. 13 months old and she is now working on her 11th tooth. Ok, so she's really doing pretty well all things considered. I have heard before (and everything you hear is obviously true, so I'm sure this is infallible information) that if we teethed as adults we would be reduced to drooling, blubbering, morphine-sucking balls of misery.
Our babies are tougher than we are.
I really have nothing philosophical to say on the topic of teething. I just have to say how much teething completely blows. I want my little sweetums back. Well, maybe sweetums is not quite the right nickname for my vivacious and spunky little 13 month old, but we'll just pretend that she is a perpetually sweet-tempered little angel who never fusses, arches her back and screams at the top of her (enormous) baby lungs when things don't go her way for the sake of my teething argument here.
Maybe one day scientists will find some magic pressure point or something to help our babies (and our tired nerves) get through teething gracefully and without pain. Maybe one day our teeth will just magically appear in our gums and be perfectly straight.
Maybe one day I will stop being delusional and tired and stop wishing for the impossible.
But alas, that is what motherhood is full of.
Baby Hulks, bruised knees, baby kisses, and very little sleep.
I wouldn't trade it for the world.
Baby Hulk SMASH!
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