The Eleventh Tooth

by doodaddy on May 2, 2007

Grandma Doo is playing with Boobaby after her nap while I’m decluttering the office. I hear them singing, and then I hear Boo whimper. A low whimper, to be sure, but building, escalating in both volume and urgency until scant minutes later it’s a full blown sob.

Putting on my best outward appearance of “I’m not panicking” (and if I think it’s hard to project calm now, I have no chance when she’s two or three), I step out into the living room. One of my favorite things about Boo is how she can tell us what she needs even during tantrums. She knows a few words of baby sign, so when she’s screaming, she can still “talk.”

Today, though, she’s telling us nothing. I try holding her to comfort her, and that seems to make it worse. I throw her in the air a few times (which usually is a sure-fire fix), but no go. I offer food, milk, water, and Sauvignon Blanc (well, that last one was for my mother), but she’s not interested. Finally, I give her the Boo Boo Bunny, but instead of holding it against her face, she tries to chew it.

Well, I know what that means. I switch the Boo Boo Bunny out for a regular teething ring and explore Boo’s mouth. (No worries, because I’m trained to do the same with wild animals, so Boo’s a piece of ca— ouch! She bit me!)

I’d seen none of the usual signs — drooling, pulling at the mouth, excessive chewing of furniture and cabinetry — but nonetheless, there it was: her upper right molar poking through. I missed it completely. Boo’s first two molars came in over a month ago, so I’d sort of forgotten to look out for any more. With just two two molars plus the four incisors on the bottom and the four on top, she’s been able to accomplish any chewing task I set before her.

I guess I sort of forgot there were more to expect.

Anyway, with this molar, we’re up to 11. I looked up baby teeth and found that we can expect 20 total, which means we’ve crossed the halfway mark! Only a bottle or two more of Tylenol, a week’s worth of fitful sleep, a few more flesh wounds and we’re there!


This entry is 51% female.

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in Challenges,crying ·

{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }

HomeGrownLife May 2, 2007 at 6:03 pm

I can really relate to teething woes. My husband and I had many a night of spilling Motrin on our babies hardwood floor! Our second actually started ASKING for Motrin (“mo-mo”). How sad. Hang tough and soon she (and you) will be sleeping through the night.

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Ann Marie May 2, 2007 at 7:04 pm

AWWWW BABY TEETH!! so sweet! I remember when my little guy got his first one. First thing he does with it.. BITE ME!!! ow those little things are SHARP!!!

Happy half way mark BooBaby!!!

DD.. can I give you a tinest tiny peice of advice.
The sneak peek thing with link to the rest of the post.. Not liking it.

NOT that in anyway is it my choice or does my opinion matter… BUT… I am going to give you a scenario.. I have satelite not the fastest not the slowest.. soo what happens is I pop on here to read about your day.. and I get a sneek peek then I have to REwait after I click the link..

Just not liking it… but I WILL continue to read.. even if I have to click twice!!! :0)

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aimee/greeblemonkey May 2, 2007 at 8:57 pm

Congrats on #11!

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doodaddy May 3, 2007 at 2:41 pm

@Ann Marie~ Aw, thanks. Sorry about the “more” thing, and I agree with you. I was trying to tighten up the home page. I’m so darn wordy that my home page comes out to like 967 printed pages. So I was trying to come up with a way to make it a little more accessible.

Maybe I’ll just write less.

Nah!

Cheers,

Dd.

P.S. I may not have mentioned this yet, but one of my favorite jobs as a naturalist was onboard ships, usually doing whale watches or “ecology cruises.” I never touched a line and I’ve no claim to the “waterman” title, but I sure appreciate and love the lifestyle…

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doodaddy May 3, 2007 at 2:51 pm

@HomeGrownLife~ Aw, “Mo-Mo”! Thanks for your message — Boo’s a trooper and is already doing better. (If I tell you she was up *5 times* last night, will it sound just like a play for sympathy?)

:),

Dd.

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