With Teeth

Not just a NIN album title, this actually applies to us now. Somewhat.

After nearly 10 months as the Toothless Wonder, (amid pediatrician comments like "Well, I guess they'll all come in at once," and reassuring tales of other peoples' kids who didn't get teeth until their 3rd birthday) Otter's finally cracking her first pearly white. Front bottom right, to be exact. And I am mad with dreams of texture, chewing and a moratorium on having to puree all her food...

This chain of events has been met with even more drooling and gnawing than we thought possible (nearly every surface in our home has been suckied), some aggressive Sophie chewing, and a night of intense wailing (while the tooth was breaking through).

Otter was not having it. She was not going to simply sleep through the discomfort. And after rocking, comforting and pacing had absolutely zero effect, we had our backs up against the proverbial wall. Never one to give Otter medicine needlessly, I folded like a house of cards and reached for the baby Tylenol. Which, annoyingly and unnecessarily, does not have dosing information for children under age 2.

After guesstimating and measuring out an amount we thought would not send SB into a Tylenol OD-induced coma, we sat back and waited. Within moments, Otter was out. Oh, if it were always this easy...

Now a question for the masses - how far in does the tooth need to be before we can count it?