Joshua has been teething again. This time it’s four teeth, all on top. The real kicker is two of them popped through, then somehow had the nerve to wiggle back inside the gums again. I didn’t know new teeth could do that.
His gums are puffy and awful looking, and it must feel terrible because he barely seems to be able to sleep. We’ve kept him drugged up on one form of medication or another for the last week, but I wonder if they’re even working. The kid is miserable.
It doesn’t feel like that long ago that he had colic, and was even more miserable, but when I look at the calendar and realize he’s turning nine months tomorrow, it’s actually been four months since then. We’ve had four months of grace. Boy, did it fly by quickly.
Someone told me recently that if an adult were to go through the pain of teething, we wouldn’t be able to bear it because it’s so horrible. I wouldn’t know. Probably the only thing that gives me encouragement is he won’t remember any of this. I even told him as much as we were sitting at the table. He had a wild look in his eyes and an edgy whine that felt like it could take off uncontrollably if not consoled into submission.
“Don’t worry Joshua,” I patted his back and spoke soothingly, “You won’t remember any of this.”
I turned to Celia across the table, “Celia, do you remember when your new teeth were coming in?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Celia rolled her playdough into little balls.
I laughed. “Well, Joshua, your sister is unique. You won’t remember this.”
God, I hope he doesn’t. In fact, I kind of hope that I forget too.