Two Lonely Little Teeth

As we near Bridget's first birthday and the arrival of well wishing grandparents, I have to look back over the last year with wonder! My squishy little baby who would sleep cuddled with me for hours has now gained an independent streak that I hadn't thought possible until sometime near high school. Nearing the bend to walking and with 6 words in her vocabulary (does her own name count?), she is growing up with lightening speed. Except for those poor little teeth.

Nanny Barrett coined the phrase "Two lonely little teeth" when commenting on a previous blog post. Those 2 bottom little teeth shone like a lighthouse in the night months before I expected them to arrive. They came silently, slipping into place without much fanfare. My inner cynic wondered what all of these other mother's were moaning about. This teething thing is a cinch, I concluded.
Clearly the New Tooth Department at the International Karma Institute received a memo about my doubt about the legitimacy of all of the complaining associated with teething. So they have sent a delayed delivery of four top teeth, all at one time to Bridget. This appears to be payback for all of my doubt.

So they sent an expedited parcel containing a sore bum, a rash, and a week of high temperatures for my screaming baby. I can feel the suckers, err biters. I can see the pure white daggers pushing their way through her gums and pushing her towards the edge. Nothing is safe except what she is supposed to be eating. No chicken or veggies for this little squirt. Remote controls, telephones, Daddy's shoulder, her own hand. There are teeth marks around the circumference of her crib making me think at times that we may have picked it up from Count Dracula’s Baby Consignment Store. I wish instead they sold teeth so we can get this over with. Of course, those might be excessively pointy. On the bright side, she would likely be the boss at daycare, should she ever go.

Never mind. Perhaps what we need to do is get her a set of dentures. It works from Nannies and Poppies worldwide. Of course, they do over complicate apple consumption, but I am sure it would be a fair compromise for not going through all of this trouble, trying to grow her own and all.

Over the last week I have been wondering why it is that babies are born with just about everything intact. Some of them (like Bridget) suffer from a hair shortage for a time, just to delay maternal gratification associated with bows and barrettes. However, with all of the screaming and crying and biting and rashes and heartbreak of the last week or so, I have reached a conclusion. If babies arrived equipped with teeth, Mommy wouldn't get to have naps with her sweaty feverish Bridget to rub her little back until she drifts off to sleep. If teething were easier, my floors might be shinier and my clothes less rumpled, but I wouldn't get to do the most important job of all... spending very important time with my little squishy Bridget.