Toofs

The child has been teething lately.

And let me tell you, before I had the kid, I was completely unaware of what teething entailed. I had kind of thought that it was sort of this continual, low-key grumpy that lasted from when the first tooth started poking out clear on to when the last one was fully in.

Well, it’s not that continual, for which I can only be grateful–so far, it seems like kind of this sudden surprise that involves shifted behavior for maybe a week or three, but is only really acute for a few days.

Those few days are something else.

Our child is, in general, a nice, cheerful, outgoing sort. Stubborn as a mule, and capable of fixating on something she wants to do for much longer than either Daddy or I is particularly capable of remembering to keep her away from it (if we’re serious, it’s necessary to physically remove it from her ever-increasing sphere of influence)… but bubbly, affectionate and nice company.

Unless there’s a toof coming in. Then, it’s batten down the hatches.

Of course, it’s a mistake to think of it just as teething. Some of it’s the knock-on affects. For instance, when she decides she wants to stop eating solid food. So her mouth hurts and she’s really hungry.

So.

Picture, if you will, a weekend where you’ve got a small, not-quite-verbal thing that seems to want to do nothing more than scream at you. Not in anger. No, just this continual, vocal outpouring is something is wrong and why haven’t you fixed it yet!? And, of course, you’ve tried–but absolutely nothing you’re trying works, and she won’t eat, and she won’t nap, and she won’t chew on a teether, and she won’t play with her toys with you, and…

(We’re also pretty clueless with kids, so I have to assume we were missing the Right Thing. Hell, I can’t even remember what I did and didn’t try, and your brain doesn’t work right when it’s continually being off-railed by the something’s wrong! shouting. But either way, it wasn’t working.)

…so, yeah, I didn’t get a lot of writing done this weekend.

That said. There is a good end to the story!

The part I just mentioned above pretty much only happened quite like that for about half of Saturday, until my husband came back from work and decided that we were going to chill out at our friend’s house. The one with seven kids. For whatever reason, as soon as we got to the alternate location, she started acting okay again (if not like her normal bubbly self), and all was okay.

And Sunday we were invited to a birthday party for a sixteen-year-old, where no one at the party seemed to have a sibling younger than eight. So the baby, once more, acted like a completely reasonable person (though, again, still not quite her normal self) as the teenagers passed her around like some kind of neat status symbol and cooed over her incessantly.

And then, on Monday, a return to normalcy.

*phew*

Toying with mood-icons.

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