You Call It Teething, I Call It Hell!

When I was pregnant women reveled in telling me their horror stories about pregnancy and birth. I was extremely sick when I was pregnant and while it was nice to hear that other women didn't enjoy the experience either I would have preferred to have talked about anything other than being pregnant like, I don't know...like...the migratory pattern of the swallow or anything else that would have taken my mind off of my misery. 

After the boys were born, I was given a reprieve from the "my pregnancy was worse than yours" stories but was then bombarded with annoying "just wait until" stories that primarily revolved around poop: color, texture and smell. And, while I appreciate a good laugh, the stories did little to offer any advice or assistance. 

We have received some really good advice such as using mini frozen pancakes as teethers. They numb their gums and give them a snack at the same time. 

Some of the bad advice has been to put the coffee table in the basement and basically bubble wrap the entire house, if not the children. My mother is strangely obsessed with tempered glass. Every time the boys press their faces to the windows, which they love to do, she says, "I hope that glass is tempered." I get the impression that even if it was bullet-proof glass she would say the same thing. 

We take necessary precautions and have removed thing that can kill them, inserted outlet covers,  bought a new (to us) entertainment center that closes so they won't be inclined to play with the cable box and installed gates at the top and bottom of the stairs. 

There will be no bubble wrapping of the house. 

It's amazing how many lessons we have learned in the first year of their lives. 

First and foremost on the list is that the biggest oxymoron in the history of mankind is term "childproof."

"Child-resistant" would be more accurate. And even then, it should be prefaced with the word hopefully. 

We try but seriously, we can't be with the kids 24/7 and don't want to be either. In fact, you can tell the kids whose parents hover around them. They are whiny, demanding and incapable of entertaining themselves. 

The boys are pretty good at entertaining themselves for a couple of hours each day. They do fight over toys and access to them but for the most part, once redirected, do a great job. 

There are days, and nights, that are endless hours of hell that can be attributed to one thing and one thing only...Teething! 

This began at four months when one of the boys teethed non-stop for an entire day. 

Since then we've had days and weeks of reprieve but lately both of the boys have been teething incessantly. Most of the time we can settle them down with a coating of Orajel (on their gums) and when needed baby Tylenol or baby Motrin. Most of the time...

The past week has been horrible! 

They have been teething worse than ever and all I can hope is that they will cut a whole mouthful and get this over with! 

The drool, runny noses and crying aside, the worst of it is the whining! 

I HATE WHINING!

I really do. I despised it before having children. I despise it in other children and I despise it in my own children. When they whine, I usually say something like, "Nobody wants to hear that." I thought I was making that statement up but according to my Aunts, my grandmother was known for saying this as well. Evidently, I'd heard it years ago and filed it away for future use. 

The boys' used to sleep through the night. Now they are awake multiple times. One has night terrors and is teething, the other is just teething. Either way, I'm pretty sure I got more sleep when they were two months old than I do now. 

If you've known me for any period of time, you know that I am a high-energy person who is capable of operating very well on very few hours of sleep. However, I don't really do well in the middle of the night when my REM sleep is interrupted by a screaming child...or two...in need of another coating of Orajel or some pain medication. 

Most of the time I am very patient with the kids but in the middle of the night, when woken from a dead sleep, I am neither patient nor thinking rationally. I try to get up and get to them as quickly as possible but there are times that I pretend to be sleeping hoping my hubby will get to them first. 

Why I do this, I don't know. It rarely ever works and even if he does get up, he can't get them to settle like I can and I end up getting up anyway. 

We have all of the over-the-counter teething meds, some of the newest and greatest teething toys but what works best? Frozen sweet potato fries and frozen pancakes if they are crying but if just in need of something to chew on they love their spoons. They have two types of spoons. One is all plastic and the other is metal with the rubber coated bowl. Those are actually their favorites which is cause for more lecturing from my well-intentioned family and friends. 

I understand their concern but when they are hurting and nothing else works, they get the metal spoons...end of discussion. 

I'm sure that something will come along soon enough that I will deem worse than this but the  teething experience is terrible and the doctor assures me that this can be a two year long process...Oh goody! 

In the big scheme of things two years is really a drop in a pond and crying, colic, poopie diapers, boo-boos, etc. are all things that can be fairly easily overcome. But, it is pretty evident to me that Dante was not a parent. Otherwise he would have created a level of hell filled with teething infants preventing individuals from sleeping by whining and screaming at all hours of the day and night as penance for evils committed during their lifetimes.