Waiting for Godot…

28 08 2009

…if Godot is teeth, that is.

For the past 4 months or so, Azita has shown all the signs of teething. She chomps on anything that comes within arm’s reach. She is irritable here and there. She sometimes has swollen gums. Her drooling is out of control. I mean, there hasn’t been a single day I haven’t come to work and not found drool stains somewhere on my person. And, yes, I do start off the day in clean clothes. And, I do know about Tide sticks and use them in mass quantities. She has to be teething, right?

But no teeth.

It was driving me crazy for some reason. I can’t tell you why I’ve been so anxious for her to cut a tooth already. Maybe it’s because I somehow think that the minute a tooth comes out, she will never cry inconsolably until I give her some Motrin and won’t chew on everything and make me the person who arrives at work with weird stains on her shirt. The wannabe-Vulcan* side of me knows that is not the case. I fully understand that teething is a 2-3 year ordeal with many highs and lows, and that there are many other more difficult ordeals in store (puberty, perhaps?). But some small, but pretty vocal side of me, just knows that everything will be easy-peasy and peachy keen once that first tooth makes an appearance.

Now, notice that I said it “was” driving me crazy. I used the past tense, because somewhere in the past 2 or 3 weeks I plumb forget about this whole teething business. In that time span she started crawling and is trying like hell to get up and walk away from me, and she’s babbling more than ever and developing some personality. Whatever it is, something has distracted me from the teething business.

Until yesterday. Azita has been fussy for the past few days. She grabs at her ears. She is refusing to eat — this from the girl who earned the nicknames of “fatty fat fat” and “thunder thighs” (that’s a topic for a future post) at daycare. Well, yesterday I broke down and called her pediatrician’s office. I just didn’t care anymore if I was that mother. You know, the one who calls the doctor every time her baby cries.

As I described Azita’s symptoms to the nurse, I started thinking that she definitely had an ear infection. I started preparing to hop back in the car to head to the pediatrician’s office. Surely they would want her to come in and get that checked out. And then the nurse said the “t” word. Yup, teething. “Sounds like she’s about to cut a tooth to me.”

After months of obsessing about teething and learning about and looking for every little symptom, I forgot it would even happen. But, it all makes sense. Surely she’s getting a tooth. She has all the symptoms. That’s what all of this means. Right? Right?

Yeah right. I’ll believe it when I see it.

* Yes, I am hinting at my Star Trek obsession here. Star Trek and other sci-fi references will slip out regularly, so get use to it.




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