All We Want for Easter are Her Two Front Teeth

A few months ago when Sadie's salivary glands first started to kick in, I wondered if she was teething and tried to look for evidence everywhere that it might be starting to happen. Ooh -- she's chewing on her fist! Is that teething? She seems fussy today -- could she be teething? Ha! Silly me. When teething happens, YOU KNOW. I know this because for the past week, Sadie has been teething. For real.

Teething seems like...not even descriptive enough a word for what she's been going through. "Suffering" might be more apt. "Experiencing the ceaseless sensation of sharp bone slicing through her delicate gum tissue without being able to quaff a martini with a couple of Motrin to take the edge off," even more so. Teething, no doubt about it, sucks.

Oh, new parents, you don't yet know what you're in for. And I only hope that when your babies teethe, it won't be as bad as it's been for us. They tell you it can vary in intensity -- some babies barely feel it, while others have an especially difficult time. Sadie seems to be falling into the latter category. You want specifics? Let's run down this handy list of possible teething symptoms, pulled from the internet, one by one.

Irritability:  Hoo boy, yes. Everything has been making her mad: she fusses when you put her down, when you strap her into her carseat, when it takes more than 0.4 seconds to feed her once she decides she's hungry. The best is when you try to distract her by doing something silly and she starts smiling and crying simultaneously because it hurts to smile.

Drooling:  Oh, gee, let me think. Has she been drooling? Well, today I took her for a walk and forgot to put a bib on her. By the time I lifted her out of the stroller, she'd created a bib of her own. A SPIT BIB that went from her chin, across her chest, all the way down to her belly button. Yeah, I'd say there's drool.

Coughing:  There's a lot of this. It's what happens when you're constantly jamming your index finger down the back of your throat, trying to counter the pressure on your gums. The other day Scott was feeding her and she tried to gum the rubber spoon, but it slid back too far and made her cough and choke. My comment: "Honey, she's truly a Valley Girl. You literally gagged her with a spoon."

Chin rash:  I tried to take a picture so I could show you the evidence of this, but the resolution on my iPhone isn't good enough to do it justice. You'll have to take for granted that a big, bumpy, red, angry rash has spread all over her cheeks and chin.

Biting &
gnawing:  She will bite anything within reaching distance. Today she managed to grab hold of my plastic coffee filter holder and had it in her mouth before I even knew what she was doing. She'd chew on the dogs if they let her. Her favorite chewing object of choice is my shoulder, which feels weird. I'm just about ready to give this girl some chaw and call it a day.

Cheek rubbing
and ear pulling:  Check.

Diarrhea:  Okay, there's ONE symptom she hasn't exhibited yet. And thank Jeebus it's this one.

Low-grade
fever:  Last night she spiked a 99.6 -- low, but enough to make her uncomfortably warm and add to her fussiness even more. Today she seemed to be a little better.

Not sleeping
well:  While I live in fear of the Night of Ten Wake-Ups, she has still been sleeping well and is really only fussy during the day, getting angrier and angrier as the day progresses.

And so it goes on. Our family members and friends have been awesome, bringing over a steady supply of bibs and rubber teethers to keep in the freezer and even a freezable pacifier that I can't wait to use. Also, Orajel is a GODSEND; it has worked so well I've only had to give her Tylenol once or twice when things got really bad. At this point, however, I really just want her to cut the damn tooth already. Not because of my own exasperation, but because after going through this for as long as she has, she deserves something to show for it.

For Your Viewing Pleasure

I present: Sadie attempting to eat her first (semi)solid food.

Sadie eating oatmeal

Mommy & MeEEEEK!

Baby crying

Sadie and I had a blind date today. We got together with ten other moms and their babies to sit around, chat and compare notes. The experience left us both a little bit scarred.

Let's back up first. I've always felt bad that Sadie doesn't have more baby friends. (Or, to be more selfishly specific, that I don't have more mom friends with babies Sadie's age.) I do have one friend, whose son is a couple months older than Sadie, with whom we do semi-regular playdates. I'm one of her only mom friends too, so our playdates usually consist of the two babies rolling around on the floor for awhile while we say things to each other like, "Oh, I see he likes to whack himself in the head with a rattle until he cries. She does that too! I'm glad that's a normal thing." Last time, our playdate lasted about ten minutes, after which point both babies decided all they wanted to do was nap.

On Scott's urging, I checked out a Gymboree nearby our house. The facility looked cool, but classes are crazy expensive, and apparently you can't always guarantee a good turnout of kids, meaning if it winds up just being you and one or two other babies, you still have to pay that hefty per-class fee. After that, having run out of options, I was ready to resort to hitting on women at the park and begging them to be my baby buddy. Considering most of the women pushing strollers at the park are nannies, this tactic doesn't work great either.

Then, while surfing an internet chat room looking for ideas for how to meet other local moms -- I'm a dork, I know -- someone mentioned Meetup.com. I happen to love Meetup -- it takes one of the best aspects of the internet, being able to find group of people who enjoy the same highly specialized activities that you do, and puts it in your backyard. If your thing is amateur stargazing, or birdwatching, or you're really into making your own jewelry, there's probably a group on Meetup for it. I used to belong to a Skeptics meetup group (I know, I know, like I said, a DORK) and I couldn't believe the idea hadn't occurred to me sooner. I did a little searching, found a group for new moms in my neighborhood, and joined up.

This group does TONS of meetups -- walks at the park, music appreciation classes, monthly all-inclusive birthday parties, you name it. The first event I RSVP'd for was a playdate at another mom's house. I liked the sound of it: no more than ten moms and babies allowed. It sounded civil -- much more so than the open-invitation get-togethers at the park for which 30+ moms always seemed to RSVP. Those frankly sounded terrifying. So. House. Babies. Bring your own toys. Munch on snack food. Leave at naptime. Sounds good.

By the time we showed up, though, I was already feeling some trepidation. Sadie had been awake for an hour already, and she has a very definite inner clock. Once she's been up for that 90 minutes, she REALLY wants to go back to sleep. If I can get her over the hump, she's usually good for another 90 minute cycle -- but that middle point, where she's used to going down for a nap and is being denied it, can get ugly.

Me and two other moms were the first ones to arrive. I had a small pack of business cards in my back pocket so if another mom asked for my number, I'd have my contact info handy. (The last time I made a mom contact, I had to write my email address on the back of a paper plate.)

The hostess's home was beautiful -- and best of all, she had a carpeted play area with lots of room. Carpets! I never realized how wonderful traction can be. I put Sadie down and she was scooting all over the place, with her patented flying-blind style of pumping her legs while lying on her back. I traded some notes with the other moms, whose sons were a bit older than Sadie. I pulled out a few toys and the babies played with them. Things were nice and quiet. This was easy!

More and more moms began to arrive. More than the promised ten. One of the moms had an extra baby, her friend's son. Suddenly there were a LOT of babies in the room. Well-behaved babies, for the most part. Some crawling, some sitting, some sleeping. Conversation picked up. Toys came out. We were rolling.

Then -- then the turning point. I think it happened about 30 minutes in, and it started with Sadie, who wanted everyone in the room to know that she had Hit The Wall.

"EHHHHHHHH." Sadie announced.

"Oh, how cute, she's talking!" the other moms cooed.

"EHHHHHHH. WUUUUUUUUUUGH. AAAAAAAAAAH." I tried putting her on her back, but that didn't help. I tried flipping her over, and that really pissed her off.

Another baby decided to horn in on the action and started to sniffle. And -- it was like a dam broke. Crying babies everywhere. Sadie's face crumpled. "WAAAAAAAAH."

Interestingly, this didn't stop mom conversation a bit. They all just adjusted the volume knob and started talking louder to be heard over their babies. The louder the babies yelled, the louder they talked. And suddenly, this was how it stayed. This is how things were. One continuous wall of sound. As it was impossible to hear everyone, moms broke into smaller groups. I scooted over to one to try to listen to a conversation about baby swimming lessons, but it was difficult to hear her. Every time I tried to put Sadie down, she'd burst into tears again.

One mom arrived with two babies in tow, one in her arms and one in a carrier. She tripped stepping over the childproof gate, tipping everyone onto the (mercifully carpeted) floor. The other babies freaked out at the unexpected ruckus and screamed louder.

I turned to a mom who had been explaining to me that her son, for some reason, was acting up more today than usual. "Maybe it's because it's so loud. Is it usually...like this?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, this is pretty normal."

I nodded. I could feel my Asperger's side coming out, the part of me that wants to sit in a corner and not have to make conversation with anyone and just watch and see how everyone else does it. But I couldn't. I owed it to Sadie to make her some new friends. I can't have a friendless child! I couldn't be a mom-friendless mom. I OWED IT TO MYSELF.

Oh hey, look, it's 2:30! "Gotta go. I have a phone call at three," I said cheerfully. No one heard me. I yelled again over the noise that it was great to meet everyone, and escaped with my red-eyed, sniffling child out the front door. Out into the blissful quiet of the street, my business cards still in my back pocket, untouched. I strapped Sadie into her carseat and she passed out instantly, her head flopping onto her chest, worn out from the day. "You and me both, little girl," I thought.

We'll try it again. One day.
  

5 month 2 week 3 day check in

Right now I've just put Sadie down for a mid-day nap, and instead of sleeping she's decided to make vowel sounds at her mobile. Since I'm paranoid about going in to take a shower before she's fully asleep, I've decided to kill time by inhaling an entire box of Tagalongs having a quick snack and posting on the baby blog.

Life has been eventful lately. We have a new sitter starting tomorrow, since we got hung out to dry by our old sitter. I have a hard time talking about it. It still hurts. She decided to devote herself full time to growing her photography business (she took the adorable close-up of Sadie, a few posts down), and informed me of this decision about three days after I'd approached her about upping her hours because she'd been so invaluable to us. Scott can attest to the fact that I didn't take the news well. To be specific, I called him crying from the parking lot of a Del Taco. I think my exact words were, "It's like I pulled out an engagement ring, and she dumped me. I need to eat some chili cheese fries." Now that I've somewhat recovered, I've found someone new. I think it's going to work out well -- she has promised to deal kindly with my nervous text messaging habit.

We went over to my parents' house yesterday to celebrate both of their birthdays, which fall 10 days apart. As we all sat around on the couch, Sadie next to me on her back, she waited for me to turn my attention to the window and chose that moment to try to roll herself headlong off the couch. Between Scott and my mother, I have never, ever seen reflexes that lightning quick. Y'all should be major league baseball players with reflexes like that. Of course I felt terrible -- she doesn't roll, guys! I swear! That was a one time thing! This morning I placed her on her belly and waited forever for her to roll, but still no dice.

She does scooch, though, which is kind of funny. She only does it when we're not looking. A few mornings ago I went into the bedroom to get her, and she'd scooched herself backwards into a corner of the crib, actually under a throw blanket I put there to use as decoration. Er...USED as decoration. I've decided to put that throw blanket somewhere else. So the girl can definitely get places when she wants to.

And how are things on the poop front, you ask? You want to know about poop? While sitting in the Jumparoo this morning, she took a poop that went off like a gunshot and when I went to change her diaper I found it had gone as far up as her NECK. Her changing pad is now being sanitized in the washing machine. As for her cute white onesie with the little yellow duckies on it...well, my suspicion is that it will never be quite the same again.

Overall, complaining aside, these days are so joyful and fun that I wish they'd never end. She's the perfect size, she's happy nearly all the time, she still sleeps like a dream, and her little personality emerges more every day. She's curious and grabby, she loves beards and eyeglasses and iPhones. And the handle of my coffeepot, which I need to watch out for. She thinks dogs are the funniest toys ever invented. She loves having her diaper changed but hates having her hands put through sleeves. She loves bath time but hates being taken out of the tub. She smiles big at me and even bigger at her dad. She is my joy in life and I never, ever get tired of loving on her. I don't know how we got this lucky, but we must be doing something right. 

Jumparoo

Sadie in the jumparoo

Cause and Effect

She learned it today.

She's been blowing raspberries for awhile now, randomly and thinks it's hilarious when I blow one back at her. But today, she figured out that blowing raspberry = return raspberry. We blew them back and forth at each other and cracked up instead of me changing her diaper. Possibly the best 20 minutes of my life thus far.

Oh. Crap.

Sadie started solids four days ago. She has not had a bowl movement in as many days. Until today.

Yes, I am now that woman who blogs about her child's poop. But y'all. This was no average poop.

The first sign I got that something was amiss was after I put Sadie in the Bumbo chair and she got that faraway look in her eyes, and before I knew it her pants were making burbling sounds. Usually this is cause for celebration. I picked her up and, in a move that I hope no one ever, ever sees me do, sniffed her pants to see if she'd really pooped.

Holy shit. It almost knocked me over.

I took her to the bedroom and opened up her diaper, almost afraid of what I might find. And what I found --

No, wait. First let me describe a bit what a milkfed baby's poop is usually like. It's kind of runny. And bright yellow. It doesn't usually smell terrible (I mean, it's not like a rose garden but at least the scent doesn't linger), and it wipes off quickly and easily. Someone once whimsically described milkfed baby poop as smelling like "buttermilk." It doesn't, but it's fairly inoffensive.

Compare this with what I discovered today, when I opened Sadie's diaper and for a moment was under the mistaken impression that somehow, an overweight trucker with 13 beers and a 7-layer burrito from Taco Bell in his system found my daughter's diaper and decided to take a crap in it. I reeled. I retched. I used five wet wipes and when it was done and the offending diaper was in the Diaper Genie, the room still reeked.

Is this my future? Is this what it will be like from now on? Have other moms been dealing with this forever and I only now just figured out that real baby poop is like this, not the buttermilky manna from heaven with which I was previously dealing? Because if so...Not. Cool.