The last few days have been a NIGHTMARE in our household. It all started the day of Cheech's birthday party. She was one unhappy baby, and the next day when I realized that her top front teeth, which had been hanging out right at the surface of her gums for months, had FINALLY broken through, it all made sense. We got a few days of normalcy after that, and BAM, she's been in total teething hell ever since.
On Saturday, it took 6 hours and two doses of Tylenol to get her fever to settle down. If I even tried to get near her with a cold compress, she would start screaming. We battled high temperatures for the rest of the night. By noon yesterday, her Easter dress was soaked through with drool. We went for a drive in the afternoon and she ended up having such an epic meltdown that Joe had to speed home, all while I tried to soothe her as she struggled to get out of her car seat and reached her arms out for me to hold her. By the time she was in bed last night, I was much too exhausted to drown my sorrows in a margarita. DO YOU KNOW HOW UNLIKE ME THAT IS?
She woke up at 5:45 this morning (very early for her), and started the day off in tears. I tried taking her out for some distraction, but it only seemed to make matters worse. By 10 am, after hours of constant crying and fussing, I gave up. I gave her some more Tylenol, started a Netflix marathon of Yo Gabba Gabba, and handed her her pacifier to suck on all she wanted. And then I cried.
I wish I had a better post for you today, but I simply do not currently have the mental capacity to think of anything besides my unhappy baby. I wish I had words of wisdom, but obviously I have no fucking clue what I'm doing here. This week has been about getting by and patiently waiting for all this to end, for Cheech to be her smiley, happy self again. On a more exciting note, she took her first steps on Saturday.