Whence Sweet Lucia?
A baby! A baby! I’m selling a baby! First come, first served. Must be willing to sing infinite rounds of “Old MacDonald Had a Farm” and have ears that can withstand high-pitched shrieking.
Kidding. Sort of. I’m not selling Lucia, but I might be forced to give her up when I’m carried off in a straitjacket thanks to a teething-baby-based crack-up. I’m serious when I say I’m about two steps shy of that. Where, where, is my sweet little one, with her constant dimpled smile, her playfulness, her reliable eating and napping? I think it was just earlier this week or last week when I actually told someone that I couldn’t remember the last time she’d had an all-out sobbing fit—that’s how rare it was for her to cry. But now? But now. Oh, but now. She does nothing but cry. She cries when she tries to nap. She cries when she doesn’t nap. She cries when she wants to eat, and she cries when I try to feed her. She cries when she tries to play. She cries when I hold her, and when I put her down. And the most shocking—she cries in the tub. Bathtime was always her absolute favorite part of the day—our little fish—and now, when we sit her in the water, she looks up, her face crumples, and she begins screaming inconsolably, tears mixing with the bathwater on her red, raging face.
Where is my sweet baby? And, more pertinent to my sanity, where is her ability to go down for a nap without an hour of hysteria and her willingness to eat without batting food out of my hand or swiping it off her tray, dramatically rejecting everything but bananas, diced cooked sweet potatoes, and puffs? For the past two days, despite being exhausted, she has refused her afternoon nap—refused as in both squealing and playing in her crib to prove how awake she is as well as screaming her tiny head off to show how mad she is at the entire idea of lying down. Oh—and lying down—that seems to be a thing of the past. She can now pull herself up to her knees in her crib, and she’s adept at quickly getting into a sitting position. Why nap when there are so many other fun things to do?
This isn’t the first time having a baby has brought me low, down for the count, but I’d been justifiably smug for so long—what a good napper! a good eater! so constantly happy! we can bring her anywhere!—that it hurts, really hurts, to be in this awful new stage.
Tooth #2 has broken through, so let’s hope this all ceases soon. But I really fear we’ve just entered, via teething, a new nearly-ten-month-old stage that’s a mixture of defiance, curiosity, separation anxiety, developmental craziness, and attempted independence that is going to test the will of this mama for some time to come.
Readers…Any other teething stories, tips, etc. welcome in comments or email…I’ve been doing Motrin and Tylenol (switching off in three-to-four-hour intervals when necessary), Hyland’s teething tablets, and teething biscuits (she likes these, though I don’t know how good they are for her; but she only actually eats a little bit of them). I also have a mesh-bag pacifier thing that I put frozen plum pieces into; she’s only marginally interested, and usually only after the plums have thawed. She has no interest in cool or room temperature teething rings, frozen cloths, etc. She will only eat from a spoon on rare, tricked occasions. She is nursing moderately well, but certainly not more than usual, which I’ve read teething babies sometimes want to do. Thankfully she is falling asleep at night and sleeping fine through the night (waking up once to nurse, but that’s our routine). She doesn't have a fever, and I don't think she has an ear infection, but I'm going to make an appointment just to be sure...
Kidding. Sort of. I’m not selling Lucia, but I might be forced to give her up when I’m carried off in a straitjacket thanks to a teething-baby-based crack-up. I’m serious when I say I’m about two steps shy of that. Where, where, is my sweet little one, with her constant dimpled smile, her playfulness, her reliable eating and napping? I think it was just earlier this week or last week when I actually told someone that I couldn’t remember the last time she’d had an all-out sobbing fit—that’s how rare it was for her to cry. But now? But now. Oh, but now. She does nothing but cry. She cries when she tries to nap. She cries when she doesn’t nap. She cries when she wants to eat, and she cries when I try to feed her. She cries when she tries to play. She cries when I hold her, and when I put her down. And the most shocking—she cries in the tub. Bathtime was always her absolute favorite part of the day—our little fish—and now, when we sit her in the water, she looks up, her face crumples, and she begins screaming inconsolably, tears mixing with the bathwater on her red, raging face.
Where is my sweet baby? And, more pertinent to my sanity, where is her ability to go down for a nap without an hour of hysteria and her willingness to eat without batting food out of my hand or swiping it off her tray, dramatically rejecting everything but bananas, diced cooked sweet potatoes, and puffs? For the past two days, despite being exhausted, she has refused her afternoon nap—refused as in both squealing and playing in her crib to prove how awake she is as well as screaming her tiny head off to show how mad she is at the entire idea of lying down. Oh—and lying down—that seems to be a thing of the past. She can now pull herself up to her knees in her crib, and she’s adept at quickly getting into a sitting position. Why nap when there are so many other fun things to do?
This isn’t the first time having a baby has brought me low, down for the count, but I’d been justifiably smug for so long—what a good napper! a good eater! so constantly happy! we can bring her anywhere!—that it hurts, really hurts, to be in this awful new stage.
Tooth #2 has broken through, so let’s hope this all ceases soon. But I really fear we’ve just entered, via teething, a new nearly-ten-month-old stage that’s a mixture of defiance, curiosity, separation anxiety, developmental craziness, and attempted independence that is going to test the will of this mama for some time to come.
Readers…Any other teething stories, tips, etc. welcome in comments or email…I’ve been doing Motrin and Tylenol (switching off in three-to-four-hour intervals when necessary), Hyland’s teething tablets, and teething biscuits (she likes these, though I don’t know how good they are for her; but she only actually eats a little bit of them). I also have a mesh-bag pacifier thing that I put frozen plum pieces into; she’s only marginally interested, and usually only after the plums have thawed. She has no interest in cool or room temperature teething rings, frozen cloths, etc. She will only eat from a spoon on rare, tricked occasions. She is nursing moderately well, but certainly not more than usual, which I’ve read teething babies sometimes want to do. Thankfully she is falling asleep at night and sleeping fine through the night (waking up once to nurse, but that’s our routine). She doesn't have a fever, and I don't think she has an ear infection, but I'm going to make an appointment just to be sure...
Comments
Hang in there! As long and torturous as the day may seem, it will pass and you will actually barely remember it. Robyn had a hard time with her top 2 teeth and we did all the same things. I also thought she had an ear infection once because it was so bad, took her to the dr, and she was diagnosed with teething. She did get a mild fever from it a few times. But 1.5 years later, I barely remember it. It all passes pretty fast. I recommend wine for you in the evening as the best medicine:)
sarah