There’s nothing good about teething, except for when it’s over.  And because my son is a mere 11 months of age, I understand that “Over” pretty much means “Never,” or what those of a more patient demeanor refer to as “Not soon, but eventually.”  Me, I hate it.

Teething is an all-consuming phenomenon, and something I never really thought much about until I was actually “in the sh*t.”  It starts with lots of drooling.  Runny baby spit is not exactly cause for concern, but when your child soaks through oneness faster than you can actually dress them in one, it gets to be a pain.  We have all these stylish, baby-sized versions of stuff I’d actually wear, that constantly get covered by stupid bibs, or kept in the drawer because he’s just going to soak them up, and frankly I’d rather just keep him in a “3 in a pack” if it’s just going to be drenched and in his orange hamper before Syd the Science Kid comes on.

But the drooling is a mild side effect compaired to the potential diarrhea, constipation, red, swollen tushy exit hatch,  loss of hunger, irritability, and the pain; oh God the pain!  I don’t even know what my son is feeling, but if he can dive head first into the wall without as much as a frown, these damn teef of his must feel like his gums and dental nerves have been getting an Elmo tattoo for the past 96 hours by someone who really sucks at tattooing.

And then there are the nights.  My wife and I did sleep training, which resulted in my son sleeping 11-12 hours consistently, and a resurgence of what used to be our collective sanity.  But when the boy teethes, all bets are off.  The Sleepeasy Solution was our Bible during the sleep training.  And the same book that saved our lives and taught us to let little man “cry it out” for a few days so he can learn to put himself back to sleep, says that when the tooth is cutting through you should:

“Above all, be sure not to work on sleep or let your baby cry while he’s cutting a tooth; he needs your comfort and help at this time so it’s appropriate to give it to him.“

So once two weeks ago, and both of the last two nights, my guy has woken up at 2 or 3am, and was screaming as if to say “Hey, Mom, Dad, I’m not going back to sleep.  So we can pretend like somehow you’ll be able to ignore these sounds I’m making, but you and I both know you’re both lying to yourselves if you think you can.  So whatta ya say we get this show on the road, hmm?”  We got the message loud and clear, and after two hours of miniature-sized tossing and turning, he was asleep in our bed which actually turned out to be kind of cool.

But silver linings aren’t the point here.  In fact, there is no point here other than to bitch about the fact that teething is far and away the most flawed thing in the human-making process.  It’s totally awful and affects your child in ways you never imagined.  And I think that instead of scientists working hard to genetically engineer chromosomes so that spoiled rich a$$holes can pick their child’s gender, they should be spending their days inventing something that corrects this awful flaw, or at least shave some months off the whole experience.   Or, jobs should include “Teething Days” along with sick and vacation time in their benefit packages.  Or, coffee and alcohol should be discounted to people who bring iPhone videos of their happy children being irritable as hell and chewing on their drool-covered fingers.  Or, maybe I just need a nap.