Teething Woes

Where has my happy baby gone? She's been replaced by a grouchy, grizzly, dribbly little monster. A gorgeous little monster, but scary nonetheless.


Baby Girl is teething.

I've suspected it for a while, but now I'm sure. Well, as sure as I can be, considering she can't tell me what hurts. She's been like this all day; she's happy one minute, screaming the next. She's off her milk, off her dummy and off Captain George (her favourite toy). There's nothing I can do to pacify this little hurricane.

I tell a lie; she likes to use my finger as a chew toy. If I let her, she will chew on my nail until the cows come home. Last time, I was there for an hour.

And the world seems to be working against her, because each time she drifts off to sleep, the phone rings and subsequently the caller hangs up just before I go to answer it. Then this is what happens:


Not happy.

So I gave her a dose of Calpol, camomile tea and she finally drifted off to sleep. I hope that's it for the night. There best be a whopping great tooth at the end of all this...