How to treat a teething baby

teething baby

I hope you’re not here for an actual solution to that title. I’m just winging this parenthood thing one developing tooth saga at a time.

At 11pm last night everyone in our house was fast asleep and drooling into their pillows when all of a sudden, we weren’t anymore. Aiden woke up screaming which meant that I rushed through blurry eyed to see if he was ok. His hands clawing at his gums was my first clue that the devil’s work was at play here again, Aiden is teething. Honestly this is the worst experience so far – my friends warned me about how bad it was but nothing prepared us for this 10kg screaming little demon banshee that shows up in the middle of the night and cannot be satiated with any amount of comfort, lullaby singing, medication or rocking.

Middle of the night baby wake up calls with high fevers are stress inducing beyond any advertising deadline I’ve ever had. And I work best under high pressure.

It’s a rush to find the suppositories, only to chuck those suppositories over the shoulder as they’re not the right kind, get the nappy off ASAP, realise he’s done a (runny, smelly!) poo, clean the bum, get poo all over your finger, wipe it off on a wet wipe, place new nappy under bum, find the Vaseline for suppository lubrication, insert the suppository, see it plop out, – re-insert the suppository because it plopped out again (too much Vaseline!), shush and rock the baby, tap him gently on the bum in rhythm to the humming of your midnight toneless lullaby, break all night-time rules and prepare a bottle to soothe the baby.

Baby won’t accept bottle – gums are too sore from teething, find the teething powder, mess the teething powder everywhere but on baby’s gums ensuring he looks like a tiny little cocaine addict, find more teething powder and tap into mouth, wait five minutes then try bottle again. Watch baby inhale bottle in three minutes flat, calm down, see his eyes are getting heavy while daddy rocks him gently. Struggle to retake temperature and see fever is breaking, place baby’s onesie back over legs, put baby down in bed, breathe a sigh of relief.

And then he starts screaming again once he realises he’s no longer in anybody’s arms.

Rinse, repeat. From 11pm until 3am this happened last night. Eventually I sent a zombiefied Jon back to bed to try and get some sleep because at least I don’t have to look presentable at an office the next day – he does.

The best part was, at 3am when I could hear faint little snores coming from Aiden (at this point I’d set myself up ont the floor next to his cot to stick my hand through the bars and rub his back whenever he needed assurance I was still there, I eventually crept back to bed in my own room, and then I realised. My left boob had popped out of its vest, my hair was wrapped around my neck like a scarf, I was missing a sock and bursting to have a wee and had been since before all of this happened, but didn’t even notice because when the baby screams everything else falls away and mommy mode kicks in.

Parenthood, man. It’s a trip and a half.

3 comments

  1. Angel says:

    Ag poor baba…
    I hope for you all that nights like that are few and far between.
    I hope I’m not talking out of my ass, and they didn’t exist when my knucklehead was a baby, but I have heard many people say those amber beads help for teething?

  2. Tara says:

    Rocking chair & a wrap were what saved me. I’d strap him to me, and rock in the chair. For hours.

    And hours.

    and hours….

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