Where’s the Whiskey

Have you ever heard about those stories where an older folk swipes some whiskey on a young teething baby? And you thought, WTF? I figured it worked because that stuff taste like crap and they’d be so distracted by the taste, they’d forget their pain. Still, I’ve never considered doing it.

This past week, I admit, I’ve thought about it.

LJ has been just loads of fun. Like, I’m ready-to-rip-my-hair-out fun. Please talk me back from the ledge, kind of fun. For the love of God, if you don’t stop screaming I’m going to make myself go deaf, kind of fun.

Yeah, he’s been grumpy. His appetite has been sporadic. I’ve told therapist, after therapist that he’s teething. I’ve told Louie I’m tired of giving him that excuse, until he gently reminds me that his gums are still very swollen.

Oragel does not work long enough. Teething tablets are not strong enough, not for as many teeth he’s getting at once. I’ve been doing the Motrin thing on particularly bad days, but have been trying to lay off of it because I feel as if I’m drugging him.

But really, Motrin is the only thing that helps. Sometimes biting on a cold cloth, but mostly? It’s the Motrin.

Seriously, it’s been months. And so far it’s mostly the left side of his mouth that’s teething (top and bottom). So I assume I have more hell to look forward to since the other side of his mouth has yet to have molar appearances. Oh, but they’re there. Waiting. Waiting for the other teeth to come through so they can start taking their sweet time coming in.

I feel for the little guy, really, I do. But I think his teeth have caused me more tears then they have him.


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