Oh. Is it morning already?

This was my first thought when Emma woke up screaming for the ten zillionth time on Saturday night/Sunday morning. Paul informs me that it is 5 am and queue the inner screaming tantrum session in my head. 

Can I just say? I hate teeth right now. Well, I hate little milk teeth that are Trojan-horsing it out of my gremlin’s gum sheath like the b****** they are. (If I sound angry, it is due to the lack of sleep, extra drool on my clothing, and the soundtrack of baby screams going on in our home right now).

I put out a desperate plea Tweet or two about what you all do for your teething bebes and I promptly ordered a Baltic amber teething necklace that was recommended. Thank the sweet Lord for Amazon prime two-day shipping. We will see if it works. 

Even though it is World War III in Emma’s mouth right now, I snapped a few photos like a mom armed with a camera. Click click bang. #sharpshooter 

In case you were wondering, this is the face of non-stop teething, congested sinuses, and I’ll-be-having-none-of that

Do you see Paul’s legs in the background? Well, he is face down passed out in a pile of pillows. The 3-am shift is a hard one.

*open-mouthed, heavy breathing*

Emma badger is not amused.

You would not want to cross her in a dark alley.

How about no?

Gnaw, gnaw, gnaw, gnaw, gnaw, gnaw. Repeat. 

We have shed quite a few buckets of tears on these parts and prayed for pain relief.

Send ice cream.