The battle of the bite

In just over a week, THREE new teeth have popped out on the top gum, and I have a feeling that fourth one is just under the surface, ready to complete the front quartet of incisors.

First he got his outside incisor on the left side, followed a day or two later by the middle incisor next to it. This morning we discovered the outside incisor on the right side, so I can't imagine that whole in the middle will remain for too long.

No big deal, other than a couple of crying fits and a few nights where, for the first time in months he sought snuggle snack comfort at 3:30 a.m., right?

I'm afraid we may not be that lucky.

Turns out intentional bites to the nipple -- with teeth on the top and bottom -- are impressively more painful than the oops-I-was-half-sleeping-and-couldn't-have-intended-to-bite-you bite from a month ago.

He's bitten me a handful of times in the past week, but only sporadically. It is clear to me, however, that he is testing his boundaries with these new toofers, because each time he bit me it was after he had gotten his fill of milk and while he was looking straight up into my eyes, as if to say, "let's just see what THIS does."

And I have tried to scold gently and without sudden jerking or screaming. That, in and of itself, proves quite a challenge.

However, he has gotten me really good twice so far. Twice he has bitten so hard and so suddenly I swore bloody little bite marks must remain after such bolts of white-hot pain. And twice I have been unable to refrain from yelping. The first time, just before bedtime, Chicken put on his unhappy weenus face only briefly before my nearly on-key rendition of "Mary Had A Little Lamb" lulled him back to drowsy comfort. (No idea why, but that song nearly always works to calm him down.)

The second time, this morning, was different. I howled so loud at his second chomp (he smiled at me as he tested the waters with his first little nibble, after which I calmly but firmly told him, "Mama ouch, NO bite," and then I let him reattach, like the masochistic idiot I am), I scared the bejesus out of the little guy, and he immediately dissolved into an inconsolable sobbing mess, alternating desperately between frenzied wails and frantic hiccups for air.

So we both have some learning to do here: Chicken has to learn that biting is NOT OK, and I have to learn some more effective ways to deal with his experimental nipping of the nips.

Anyone have some tips for breaking a nipple-biter of the habit? Let's keep this PG, please.

Chicken is eight months, two weeks old.

Darned if those baby books weren't right.

The past few days of sleep struggles suddenly make sense. As I typed yesterday morning, Cayden was working on a developmental leap.

Last night -- after an hour of nearly inconsolable crying -- we discovered his first tooth, peeking out just right of center on his bottom gum.

My baby cut his first tooth at three months, three weeks and three days old.

Jess promises what while teething is never fun, the first tooth is the worst.

symptoms of teething

Excessive drool: Check.
Putting things in mouth and chewing: Check.

Now, all three-month olds do both of these and they're not reliable signs of teething, so I have been reluctant to agree when all the grandparents tell me Cayden is teething.

But yesterday, after Chicken Wing woke up from a 30-minute nap screaming and continued to cry while he nursed, I opened his mouth to find a little white spot on his lower gum. Not a tooth, but as soon as I found it Brian went online to look up symptoms of teething. Now these, I had not known about:

Ear pulling: Check. He's been pulling on his right ear for a few days. I was actually worried he had an ear infection.

More frequent stools: Check. After weeks of pooping every few days, yesterday he went three times in 24 hours.

And the little white dot on the gums: Check. Incidentally, it's on the same side as the ear he's been pulling.

Only time will tell, but we've got the baby Tylenol on the ready, and the teething toys are now in the freezer. He's a little over three months and one week old.

Sigh. I guess my baby isn't really into staying a baby. Good for him, I guess, but a little sad for me.

Here's my strong boy standing on his changing table this morning.

And yesterday.



And pulling his ear.


And this is what I found when I came up from putting laundry in yesterday afternoon. Crack me up. Pun intended. No idea how or why he got the back of his dipey pulled down so far.