Last week (catching up on backlog of memories since my computer was down for a week), Pup was up more than usual one night. I was deliriously tired because this followed a month of little sleep due to holiday travel, wonder weeks, learning to crawl, and other sleep disruptions (read: Cub).
Frustrated, I’d shush him really loudly as I brought him to bed to nurse him. (JE called them “shush-punches in the face.”)
In the morning, when I was a little more coherent, I thought to check Pup’s gums for teeth. He was almost 8 months and hadn’t cut a tooth yet.
Sure enough, when I ran my finger along his bottom gums, the jagged top of a little tooth came through the night.
Then I felt really bad.
My baby was cutting a tooth and needing more consolation than usual, and I shushed him so impatiently.
Sorry, Pup …