Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Why I Hate Molars

With the move to the new house, I was concerned that our bedroom would be a considerable distance from the girls' rooms. Before we have always been about 3 steps from either of them during the night. Turns out, however, that they have no issues with getting out of their bed and finding me in mine. I will also admit that Gary now has the side closest to the door so after 4 years of being the one who gets out of bed for any issues, it's now his turn since he is closer.

Anyway, last night or realistically early this morning since a glance at the clock told me it was 1:45AM, I rolled to the side of bed to see Nicole standing there with her cute pout and asking "uppy". So I pulled her into bed with us and she normally will just cuddle in entwining herself into me and snuggle there until morning. However, this time she decided that she needed to thrash around a bit and toss and turn. Suffice to say I got about 5 hours sleep before the alarm went off at 5AM this morning alerting me to get up and out of the house. But at about 3:00 I had the bright idea to ask her why she couldn't sleep. She looked at me, rubbed her jaw and say "my mouth hurts". DUH. Her 2 year molars are coming in. My kids have been notoriously slow at getting their teeth so she only has one partially in so the others must be right behind it. So I meandered downstairs at 3AM, grabbed the children's Tylenol and poured the 1 tsp. dose. Brought it back upstairs, gave it to my groggy toddler and she tossed and turned about another 1/2 hour and then she was out. Mother of the year, right here.

It's funny that we spend so long not really knowing what is troubling our children. They don't communicate well for a while. But you would think that as a mother I would know that the kid who knows whether she wants a bagel or waffle for breakfast and either butter or cream cheese on her bagel would also be able to tell me that her mouth hurts. But she didn't offer so I didn't ask. I did all the other check list items. No fever, no runny nose, no coughing, no monsters in the bedroom, etc. but the simple task of just asking her what was wrong, oh no, far too difficult.

I don't know why I have to make things difficult for myself, it must be the whole love of a challenge thing.

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