That would explain it

For the last week or so, Emily has been, to put it mildly, a total cranky-butt. She was whiny and clingy, drooling like a dog and constantly had her fingers in her mouth. Not the best hygiene, but what can you do with an 18-month-old who won't stop screaming if she takes her fingers out of her mouth? At least it kept her quiet for a few minutes.

Trying to look in her mouth was like trying to pry open a clamshell. She would clamp down and shake her head from side to side while trying to slide out of my grasp and run away. It was really fun for everyone involved.

Seeing as she only has four teeth -- two top front, two bottom front -- I figured I would see little white shark teeth any day. Except that never happened. It was decidedly annoying.

Finally this weekend I sat on her legs and pinned her arms down (I kid! I actually tickled her! Nothing to see here child social workers, go away) and somehow got my fingers into her mouth and past her front line of defense. To my surprise, I felt one of those sharp little bastards in the BACK of her mouth. What the hell? Aren't toddlers supposed to get teeth starting in the front and move their way back toward the molars? I felt around to the other side of her mouth and was greeted by two more pointy friends, one on the top and one on the bottom,again towards the back.

As she bit down on my finger and ground my poor digit to a pulp, I laughed and asked her why she didn't just tell us she was getting three teeth. Jack was really confused and said, "Mommy, she can't even talk yet. She could not tell us any-fwing!"

Thank you, Jack. Clearly I need to teach him the finer points of sarcasm in conversational English. If he's going to survive in this family, he's going to need to get up to speed quickly.

That makes a grand total of seven teeth for Emmie and she hadn't gotten any for the last four months. At this rate, she's going to be losing baby teeth before she gets them all in her mouth.

Shark week

Apparently my daughter is really a shark. That is the only explanation for the amount of pain her newest tooth is causing her.

The bump is huge. We're talking the size of a golf ball. Which, I know! In her little mouth! It's a freak of nature. Or maybe just a slight exaggeration.

But this bump, which I am pretty sure is not going to break through anytime this millennium, is causing all sorts of trouble in our house. She's cranky and drooly and whiny and clingy. She's also waking up at 3:15. That's 3:15 a.m. As in, the middle of the damn night.

I jumped out of bed and sprinted to her room to find her standing in the crib, peeking over the rail and sobbing. I went in armed with Tylenol and dim lighting, but she was having none of it. She suckered me into rocking her and she snuggled right into my chest, sticking her fingers in her mouth and breathing deeply.

As I lowered her into the crib a few minutes later, she figured out what I had planned. The horror of going back in the crib! Nooooooooo!

So I thought maybe I would just bring her into bed with us -- brilliant! I would get some sleep and she would drift off with a smile on her face. Except not. Because my husband started snoring, which caused her to try to investigate where the sounds where coming from. Then once she stopped trying to figure out where that god-awful noise was coming from, she just laid there staring at the ceiling.

Since she had been dosed with the sweet, sweet Tylenol and was not screaming bloody murder, I figured she could go back to her own bed. She disagreed with my observations. Vehemently. For the next 10 minutes.

But then it was quiet. And everyone was fast asleep once again. Except Mommy. Of course I couldn't fall back asleep after the hour-long shenanigans that just went on. So I tossed and turned for a while and finally fell back asleep.

Just in time to hear the piercing screech of, "Mommy! Mommy! I awake! Mommy I awake!"

Awesome.

Wow, that was NOT fun

For 14 months, Emmie was oblivious to the world of teeth. She knew nothing of teething pain or crabbiness. Middle-of-the-night wakings she was intimately familiar with, however, but that was because she wanted to eat round the clock her first 11 months and then spent the next three months after that on nonstop illnesses.

But now she's cutting her third tooth in a month and all hell broke loose last night. The poor kid was whimpering in her sleep on and off and woke up screaming like she was being tortured at 4:30 this morning.

A quick dose of Tylenol and a little rocking and she was back to sleep by 4:45 a.m. Except she did the same thing again at 6:15 a.m. Then Jack decided to join the party at the ungodly hour of 6:30 and we were all up for the day.

Have you ever been headbutted at 6:30 in the morning? You haven't? Because if that's not the best way to start your day, I don't know what is.

I'll be going to bed now since I have been awake for 16 hours and will likely be awake again in the wee hours of the night since the tooth is still a white bump juuuuust under the surface of the gum. And we only have about 14 more teeth to go before she's all done! I will never sleep again will I?

Toothless wonder no more

You might recall about two weeks ago, I took Emmie to the doctor because she was whiny and running a fever and had bright red cheeks and a runny nose and was waking up crying in the middle of the night.

I, of course, suspected an ear infection. But the good doctor said her ears were clear and it was just another virus that needed to run its course. I had looked at her bottom gums and saw nary a sign of impending tooth eruptions, so I figured it was, indeed, another cold.

Fast forward to last Thursday when she was chewing on her fingers like they were covered in ranch dressing during her music class. I couldn't believe it when I looked in her mouth and still didn't see any bottom teeth making an appearance.

That's when she bit down on my finger and almost drew blood. I shrieked and peeled back her lip to find she had already cut her first top tooth and had one close behind next to it. All this time, I had expected her to be normal and get her first teeth on the bottom. Silly me, I never bothered to look at the top.

Another mom looked at me funny, clearly wondering why I yelled "tooth" during a rousing rendition of "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" and I explained that I just discovered her first tooth -- and it appeared to be several days old. Shitty Mommy that I am, I missed the whole event. I would blame it on Second Child Syndrome, but really, it was just plain old ignorance.

She now has two actual teeth on top and the chewing and drooling has abated somewhat. I am now obsessed with sticking my fingers in her mouth to see if any more teeth are planning a sneak attack. And yes, those suckers are sharp.