Creeps into the cave around the same time each night.
He's big and unstoppable. He presses against swollen, red peices of gum and ravages Jackson's throat.
Yesterday, it prompted me to take him to the doctor. And maybe I'm crazy to run to the doctor when we all know it's teething but please understand I have never seen our child like this. Not once in the last 14 months has he ever writhed in pain, cried nonstop and drooled like a fish.
We medicated. We iced. We soothed. We watered.
We sang. We rocked. We walked. We Orajel-ed. We cuddled.
We did it all. And still the misery.
Nothing could make it better, except for random snatches of time where we rocked and patted. And only then would he settle for three maybe four minutes before starting all over again.
Finally, he cried himself to exhaustion. His voice hoarse from cries. He slept for two hours. And then Eric took the next shift. But still those cries come piercing into the part of my brain right behind my eyebrows.
This morning I let him sleep until he woke up. He was not a happy boy but not miserable. We got ready for school and played a bit. No longer writhing, we went to the local drug store for teething tablets.
I've heard from fellow mothers that these are the best way to tame the mammoths.
The miserable molars.
Get out of my cave.