It has been a rough few days.
Scarlett is in what I hope to be the final throes of teething, at least for this tooth. She is nearly nine months old and has yet to break one through. This teething thing has been going on now for about 5 months. The slobbering, gnawing, drooling and jawing. We have been waiting with baited breath to see this whopper of a pearly white pop through already. This week has got to be the week. She has seemingly saved her best performance for the finale. She flails in my arms, crying and whining. She throws her entire upper body back, arms in the air, with a distinct look of anguish dripping from her face. Then, ever so dramatically, she flops back forward, burying her tear stained face in my chest. Then she starts the cycle again. If you sit in one place, she screams. If you put her down, she screams. The only thing that (sort of) appeases her is rocking, which she only moans through. I take that back. She has been chowing like a champ.
I can feel the bump beneath her swollen gums. I have many bald patches on my head from her kung fu grip. We both have many scratches and bruises from her wailing lap dances to the dental gods for a quick eruption. We both have continuously been dosed with Tylenol for the last two days. I have rubbed so much Orajel on the bump that I no longer have feeling in my index finger.
Please. Whomever is in charge of tooth emergence. In this universe, or the next. Please. Please. PLEASE get on the stick and pop this one through. My sanity is at stake.