Once upon a time there was Alex, Gill and Eliza, and there was the next instalment in the tale of the terrible thing called teething…
Our story begins during lunch three weeks ago. My mum, who was visiting, spotted something unexpected. “What is THAT in the back of Eliza’s mouth?” she asked. It was a tooth that had suddenly sprung up, putting in a special guest appearance completely out of order with the rest of her set.
I spied the second back tooth only a week later when Eliza was laughing; it was a tiny tip of white, swimming in an angry red sea of gum.
Which brings us to this weekend, and the third tooth in our tale. It is mysterious entity, yet to put in an appearance but surely due to be unveiled shortly.
Hence today was spent camped out on the sofa, with Calpol and Nurofen for company, trying to soothe an ill and really distressed teething toddler (and making up for all the sleep the three of us missed last night).
Teething seems to exist only to cause pain to babies and sleepless nights to parents, doesn’t it? I thought the front teeth seemed bad but cutting the back ones seems to be something else entirely. Poor baby. You’d think by now we’d have evolved in a way that would make the process of making teeth more efficient and easy all round.
So here ends the tale, for the moment.
I’m seeing much baby dental-related pain on Twitter, so I’m sending love to all our fellow calcium companions. Are you suffering too? Hopefully it will ease up soon. That and this lovely weather.