Have my posts about teething scared you away from ever having children? Or, if you already have kids, are you having post traumatic stress style flashbacks of your own teething nightmares? (Bonus points if your flashbacks are in black and white). If you are still interested at this point let me just say, molars are awesome. When I saw awesome I mean HOLY SHIT TERRIBLE.
For the last four or five days my lovely, sweet, wonderful son has been transformed into a demon. Perhaps an Imp, like the ones from Doom, is the best description. Temper tantrums are an around the clock occurrence over nothing. My favorite example is a complete freak out over not being able to get the square peg he had in his hand to fit into the circular hole. He outright refused to try the square hole but screamed and threw himself on the floor because the circular hole was a no go. Yes I am serious. Yes it would be totally hilarious if it wasn’t happening every 15 seconds about a new thing.
In addition to this lovely personality change my sweet toddler has also been getting up at approximately two hours before the asscrack of dawn. For the last three days that hour has been 5:00am or 5:30am. Today it was 4:00am. Look, 4:00am is not a time I feel actually exists. It’s in time limbo. For me up until 3:00am is an acceptable time to go to bed (I am a horrible insomniac). Between the hours of 3:00am and 5:00am just doesn’t exist. Even when my son was waking up every hour all night as an infant I still didn’t believe these two hours actually existed. I’m weird, I know. It’s why you like me…I think.
The best part about these wake ups is that they go from silence to screaming in approximately three seconds. That is not an exaggeration. He wakes up shrieking. The reason is because he’s in pain and I know that and have no trouble trying to make him feel better. The thing is, have you ever been roused from sleep by ear-piercing screaming? It’s a rough way to start a day. This morning it scared me so thoroughly that I sat straight up in bed and reached for the baseball bat I keep by my nightstand.
(I don’t have a clever excuse for having a bat there, I lived in a city for a long time. It’s just something I did and a habit I never broke when I moved to the suburbs.)
I will be very thankful when these last two molars cut through the gums. It looks like part of the top one is through but that doesn’t mean pain has ceased. The bottom one has another week or two by my best guess. I look forward to a time when my son wakes up and just bangs around in his crib for a little bit before insisting we attend to him. I miss the days when I just heard random banging and thought someone was breaking into my house. Currently it feels more like someone has already broken in and is attacking one of my cats.