Teething Rage

How had I forgotten the true horror of teething? The countless hours spent with Alex jamming my numbing-gel-globbed fingers in her mouth, the gallons of ibuprofen, the sleepless nights spent tossing and turning on her bedroom floor so I could be a heartbeat away from soothing her tortured self back to sleep before she woke up Jeff? The utter frustration of not really being able to do a darn thing to help her feel better because the only relief from teething is teeth!?! Oh yeah, that's all coming back to me now.

Gabey popped out his first four teeth with relative ease. Sure there was fussing and a few interrupted nights. But now, it's regular nightly intervals of agony, screaming, crying, wriggling, writhing, temper tantrums and sleeplessness. Us and him. It's seriously ridiculous how painful and disruptive teething is. Someone should really do something about that.

For one, the makers of infant pain relief medication should have a foolproof way to deliver the goods. I'm fairly certain that babies, at least our baby, do not like the taste of grape ibuprofen. Ever. Especially not when they're half asleep and in terrible pain. Gabe has mastered the fine art of spitting out most (all?) of his ibuprofen. Just to spite us. And I'm fairly certain he's noticed it in his bottle too.

Speaking of bottles, don't we have gum-soothing technology for bottles yet? Say, a cooling nipple with gum massaging capabilities. I mean, there are butt wipe warmers, so why not teething nipples? I'd gladly pay a small fortune for a teething nipple.

So, last night was particularly horror-filled. Gabey woke at 8:50. He didn't want to eat, didn't need a diaper change, didn't want to go back to sleep. For two hours I (and sometimes Jeff) wrestled with him, squishing his tiny head on our chests to sooth him and make him, brutally force him if you will, to sleep. And sleep he did. On our chests. The second I put my hand around his body to ease him into the crib, he woke up. Screaming. I put him back on my chest, and the silence was just as deafening. Away from me = scream. With me = snore. This went on for, I repeat, two hours. TWO HOURS. Honestly, I've said it before and I'll say it again, shaken baby syndome makes more sense to me now.

But he did finally go back to sleep. After threats of doom from us, lots of numbing gel, a mystery amount of ibuprofen (definitely lass than he needed or is recommended for babies of his particular girth.) and a few sweet snuggles once the realization hit me that he might actually, after two long hours, go to sleep.

The thought had crossed my mind to just go to sleep with him so we'd all get a little rest. (Except me, because practically speaking, a baby sleeping with you is not the recipe for sound sleep.) But several things prevented me from doing this:

1. The oft-spoken-of possibility that he'd really like it. Nothing would be worse for us than a child who wanted to sleep with us every night. There's just no way.

2. He probably wouldn't really like it. Had I slept upright in the bouncy chair, he'd have slept with me all night. However, I don't sleep sitting up, and he doesn't sleep on me when I lay down, so there ya go.

3. I wasn't falling asleep anyway. Too much rage. Had I managed to fall asleep and he woke up later (like, 5 minutes after I finally fell asleep, probably) I would have sleepily strangled him so I could go back to sleep.

Anyway, turns out, all he needed was 2 hours of snuggling peppered with intermittent cursing to lull him back to sleep, so it was all good. I finally returned to bed around 11:00. Said something or other to Jeff about what a naughty baby (or something more colorful?) we have, and turned out the lights. Five minutes later, Jeff was snoring, and I was wide awake, still seething with teething rage. And the rage that Diesel was on Jeff's pillow, threatening to come over for a snuggle with me too. But a punch to Jeff's leg and a threatening poke to Diesel later, I finally drifted to sleep. To be awoken what seems like moments later by the alarm. I hid under the covers while Jeff oozed his was around getting ready for work (Thanks for the coffee, Sweetie!!!) and drifted into semi-consciousness until Gabe woke at 6:00.

He got a bottle, threats of instant death if he didn't go back to sleep so Mommy could have breakfast with lots of coffee and a shower, and a quick snuggle and back rub to settle him back to sleep. Starting now, the day has begun anew, with caffeine-fueled blogging and clean hair. Cheerios have made me cheery, and the sun has finally risen while the son has not yet. I expect to hear the elephant-like thumpings of Alex on her way down to ask me "What's going on?" instead of "Good morning." and it's off to the races again.

Back to poking gums to see if those teeth are there yet. Only 16 more teeth to go...