When teeth are like buses.....

I am shocked at just how fast time has flown by. I intended to do regular updates and find that as the little man gets bigger and more adventurous then the less time I find for moments to do the catch-up. But I digress... so onto the subject of teeth. Teeth, as an adult, are generally taken for granted. They are there and as a rule we do the right thing by them by cleaning them twice daily, as a treat some of us floss often and if we are very good and dedicated to our pearlers then we take them for a biannual outing to the dentist. Occasionally we get a pain, but that is why we have dentist - the doctor of the mouth and we put our faith in him/her to free us of the discomfort and make our lives wonderful again and we forget all about them. What we, thanks to Mother Nature, forget is the arrival of the first pegs. Now if you start to become involved in the world of babies, teething features hugely. There is no greater excuse for any baby/childhood ailment. The slightest whinge, grizzle, dribble or snotty nose and every parent will announce 'oh, he/she is teething again'. Occasionally, if your child is generally miserable (a bad night and slight cold) others will often ask with a sympathetic tone and head tilted to one side, 'teething?'. As for the medicines you are bamboozled with all claiming to ease your baby/child's discomfort - how we do not overdose them in our desperate battle to sooth them I have no idea!
Now we are reliably informed (HV's websites, parents past etc) that babies usually teeth around 6 months. At about 4 months us mums started looking for signs of teething. All the mums in the baby social network were all comparing dribble, moods, temperatures, red cheeks except me. There was not a sign. Oh, don't misunderstand, my little man dribbled for England and as a natural red head had the ruddiest of cheeks but a mother instinct told me that these were most certainly not signs of potential new teeth. As the months went by all the babies of similar age started popping up teeth. We went through a terrible four days in February but not a hint of a tooth after that. We had bouts when the everyday dribble became some substance that can only be described as ectoplasmic and a slight rise in temperature but nothing more. Maternal instinct was telling me not to expect anything until the little man was 10 months old. As we approached the 10 months I even began to wonder if I had be right to even anticipate that, not peep of a tooth. And so the days and weeks passed. One night, I put the little man to bed after a fun day while being in good health and all was well. At 1:30am sleep became non-existent as I was woken by a distressing wail followed rapidly by that haunting sound of retching. As I reached over to the cot vomit gushed from the little fellows mouth. Nothing wakes you faster that your baby being very ill - the sound and smell should be bottled and sold to motorist as they become weary whilst driving on motorways, may an accident could be prevented with this aroma that startles you to wakefulness. As the next few hours pass holding bowls and mopping mouths alll sorts of reasons for the sickness charge through your head starting with 'oh no, have I poisoned him with my cooking?' Why are we programmed to torture ourselves and immediately look to our domestic skills as the reason for a childs illness. Logic kicked in many hours later (lack of sleep delayed the initial arrival of logic). Between bouts of heaving the little man was fine in himself - so much so I had a job to keep his curiosity about the contents of the bowl seriously in check. He had no temperature and was keen to be playing games. The sickness lasted about two hours. Next morning, or to be more precise, later that morning as he had by-passed the need to go back to bed, when cleaning his 'teeth' (something we started at six months old to get into good habits ready for when the baby teeth finally made and appearance) and I noticed that there was the tell-tale little white ridge under his gum. I somehow managed to restrain myself from texting everyone as I realised how pathetic it would read 'little man sick all night but tooth might arrive in the next ten days or so' - not really what people want to read at breakfast! The good old materal instinct was very sure that the sickness was about teething but the sensible head said not. So off to the websites for a general opinion on teething I went. It was very interesting to read on all the 'offical sites that there was no link to vomiting and teething. Cue further paranoia. As the little man was fine for the rest of the day and the next few I kept the paranoia in check. This was all on a Monday night. The next Monday found us car bound for a fun filled week at Centre Parcs with friends. Tuesday morning the tooth cut. No fuss, no complaint. There is was. The joy we all shared, (any excuse to applaud and congratulate the little man and we do) and so the rest of the week went on. Thurday night I was rudely awaken with a familiar sound and smell. Oh yes, sickness in your own house is one thing but in a less familiar surrounding and while sharing with others... not for the faint hearted! This time the vomiting went on for longer but that aside it was so similar to that last time. That breakfast I checked the gum and there, as like before, was the faint white outline of a tooth. By the Tuesday he had his second tooth. Most of his friends had teeth months previous and were popping out others at a rate of knots. We waited nearly 11 months then like buses two came along at once. As his mum I am just so so proud but as an ex dental nurse I am thinking... 18 more teeth equals 18 more nights of vomiting to go... wish me luck!