Teeth, Shit and Snot

(Finally, back up and running with the Internet again. I survived.)

Ella was five months old when she got her first two teeth. We didn't even know she had any teeth growing and then one morning, there they were: two perfect little white teeth peeking out of her baby gums right in the front. Chad called them her Little Chicklets. We were excited. I bragged to other mothers about how easy teething was. "We didn't even know she was teething," I'd say. "She wasn't grumpy at all." Surely, I should have know that this would come back to haunt me, but I blabbered on in happy oblivion.

The next four teeth came during Ella's tenth month, and I still remember the smell of shit and A & D ointment that permeated our house during that terrible week. Doctors may say that teething doesn't cause diarrhea, but I beg to differ (and I think other moms would too). While those four teeth made their slow, painful way through her still baby-soft gums, her butt was one big, red, angry diaper rash from all the poop. She pooped on me, she pooped on Chad, she pooped on her car seat, she pooped in the tub. She would wake us all up in the middle of the night with horrible squirting sounds that heralded more poop.

I thought all the poop was my payback for claiming that teething was easy. Teething is NOT easy, and this was the universe's way of showing me that. I spent more nights than you would think rocking until the wee hours of the morning, dosing out Pedialyte, and ever-so-gently wiping her sore butt to avoid the look of terror would spread across her face when I came close to her with a wipe. It was tough.

Ella's next two teeth came in like the first two: they creeped up on us sometime during the night and we barely noticed it. But I knew better than to brag about it. I just counted myself lucky and waited for the next round.

The past two weeks have brought the growth of all four molars. All four molars pushing their dull, flat heads through my Ella's gums all at once. This time around - thank god - we haven't had as much shit. Instead, we have snot. I would much rather deal with snot than shit, but the amount of snot is kind of freaking me out: snot has literally been pouring out of her head all day long for 11 days straight. I wonder how such a small little head can hold so much snot. She has also been running a fever. On Monday, her temperature peaked at 103 degrees and I called the doctor for advice, but he told me to wait it out and only bring her in if her fever reached 105 degrees or continued for 48 hours. This morning her fever finally faded and now we are back to simply snot and the attendant grumpiness.

Universe, I wanted to let you know that I've learned my lesson about bragging. Really, I get it. I will never again try to make other mothers jealous with tales of my easy child. Could you please stop the snot faucet now?