Hell’s Teeth!

Well, teething can piss off.  I am done.  Every time I think it’s peaked and we might be getting somewhere, it gets worse, and still no sodding teeth!  And the very worst thing about it?  I have no desire for him to get teeth yet anyway, breastfeeding is painful enough at times without adding teeth to the mix!  It also seems to turn my gorgeous little Man Cub into an out-and-out monster.

I don’t think I have spent more than an hour this week not touching him.  I literally haven’t managed a trip to the bathroom without having to design an escape plan first.  And the plan is not as simple as “put him in his bouncy chair” or even “pass him to his dad”.  Oh no.  He’s a trickier trickster than that.  Leaving the Milk Addict for long enough to “take care of business” takes more planning than a wedding.  If we want to avoid him screaming the house down in a fit of pain and rage, he must be asleep when I leave him.  Now, to get him to sleep at the moment, takes a special mix of swinging, shoogling and bum tapping.  And once sleep happens, there is no option of lying him down.  Oh no…not if you want more than 5 minutes of continued sleep.  He must be held at all times.

And if this was not tricky enough to achieve when you are a regular human, as opposed to a superhero, the system all falls apart if you consider your own needs at anytime.  For example, scratching your nose?  Not allowed.  Having a sip of water?  Unforgivable.  The Mini Dictator has other ideas.  Any deviation to his standard treatment plan and he will certainly be lodging a formal complaint.  He may even lower himself to a dirty protest.  And trust me, they are just a little bit more dirty when he’s teething.

I have had to give up any sort of luxury activities, like sleeping, showering, vacuuming, dusting.  The wonderful minutes spent plucking my eyebrows are now a distant memory.  The hopes of dying my hair have been crushed entirely.  All in favour of answering my Torturous Offspring’s beck and call.  Now, I understand that he is in pain.  And my god, do I wish he wasn’t.  But I feel like there should be a parent’s trade union right now.  We deserve better pay and conditions.

I feel like I’ve tried everything.  Teething rings, cold teething rings, the Nuby keys, the Bickiepegs, the Teetha Powders.  Cucumber, cold cloths, breast milk ice lollies.  Calpol, amber bracelets, teething jewellery.  Chocolate, cake, gin.  (Those last 3 were me not him for the record.)  I have worn him in 4 different types of carrier.  I have taken him out in the buggy for a walk.  But nothing is giving me the much needed opportunity for some hands-free parenting.

Today has definitely been the hardest.  And while inwardly chanting “the days are long but the hours are short” and “this too will pass”, while I’m outwardly singing “Little Peter Rabbit”, even I don’t believe my own bullshit anymore.  Little Peter Rabbit almost certainly didn’t have a fly upon his nose.  And there’s no way this is passing.  My Beautiful Boy has just taken awhile to reveal that he’s actually a bit if a dick.  And a pretty violent dick at that.

If he hasn’t cut a tooth by morning I will be forced to assume the worst and resign myself to a lifetime of torture.  And I will accept the fact that visiting my dear boy in prison is an almost certainty.  Which is sad, but it’s clearly just something I’ll have to accept.

And how is Daddio coping with the most trying of teething times?  Why, by encouraging  the boy to watch 90s Wrestlemania of course!  Which, obviously, means I am being subjected to it too.  Because he is seemingly some kind of cruel beast too.  Perhaps they are working together at some kind of “how far can we push her until she snaps” type challenge.  It may not be as far as they thought…

So, for tonight, I am giving in.  I’m leaving the dishes.  The house shall go unvacuumed.  Daddio will no doubt clear the decks in the morning.  And  I shall continue to hold in my pee.  I don’t need roots that match the rest of my hair anyway.  My eyebrows and leg hair will keep me warm this winter.  And hopefully, the pearly white torture source will show it’s little head by morning.  And some order can be restored.  Because this only happens with the first tooth, right?


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