Oct 07
25
Noise, With Teeth

Posted by Stephen
Tags: , , ,
Jars of Clay

Micah is teething. This is not a pleasant experience for him. It is not brief. It is not quiet. When his teeth trouble him, he screams and screams and screams. For an hour at a time. It makes no difference if he’s being carried and comforted, or if he’s left to fend for himself on the rug or in his bed, day or night.

Debbie and I have different approaches to this: she’ll walk around with him and put up with the screaming in her ear. She figures he needs every little bit of sympathy he can get. I, on the other hand, figure that I might as well put him down if he’s going to scream anyway. Holding him is not going to make things any quieter, so I might as well free my hands so I can get stuff done (like writing a blog post). I’m close at hand, mind you, in case the baby really needs attention.

Just to prove that it actually makes no difference, while he’s being carried Micah will sometimes be distracted by Debbie talking to him, and he’ll stop crying and suddenly switch to happy mode. Likewise, when he’s on the floor he’ll sometimes be distracted by his toys (strategically placed within reach), and he’ll stop crying and start stuffing the toys into his mouth. He’ll talk to them and shake them and wave his little arms and legs around. Happy.

But with sleep deprivation, constant crying (sometimes from all three at once), and the need to carry the baby around all the time (and get no work done), you can understand how this is a trying time, especially for Debbie. Parents stumble out of bed in the morning, groggy. Daniel calls me at work to complain about his terrible day. Short tempers all around. Who would want to be a parent?

Micah will grow up. His teeth will grow out. He’ll go back to his normal happy self. I know this. We’ve gone through it twice before. But man oh man, it’s rough sailing in the meantime.

Photo note: Dan Haseltine, of Jars of Clay, in concert earlier this year. Also noisy, but a much more agreeable way to spend an evening.

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