Oh Internet, You Struck Again.

I dislike teething.

I’m sure every mother says that, but it’s true. Teething sucks the big one. I was up until 3 last night with Littlest. Hubby and I tried Tylenol, Motrin, Gripe Water, a beverage, a midnight snack, a clean diaper, the Grobag, no Grobag, a blanket, no blanket, rocking, no rocking, bum patting, no bum patting, snuggling, no snuggling… the list goes on. And on. And on. Nothing worked. He finally fell asleep after three hours of crying, but only because I rocked him a lot longer than necessary, just to make sure he was actually asleep and not just fooling me. At some point, Biggest woke up from all the fuss, and started bawling too. That seemed reasonable, although frustrating, since he was solidly asleep, and obviously regretting not continuing his slumber.

At some point, I began to question myself. I’d gone to bed a bit on the late side, and this episode started just after I’d fallen asleep. By question, I mean the following:

“Should I have gone to bed earlier?”
“Would it have mattered?”
“Maybe it would be less frantic had I some sleep under my belt?”
“Why won’t he stop crying?”
“Should I give him an extra cup of milk just to quiet him down, or am I just going to further the problem, and make him cry harder next time because he knows I’ll give in to his midnight demands for milk?”
“What if the only reason he’s crying is because I rock him to sleep sometimes, and now he can’t sleep on his own?”
“WHY? Why didn’t the Tylenol work??” (repeat with every other remedy I gave him)
“Maybe he’s just pulling my leg?”
“Why?” (repeat, repeat, repeat)

That may seem a bit melodramatic, or it may paint me as a sad, sorry state of affairs bundled into something resembling a mother. I’m not entirely certain, but when you desperately need sleep, the weirdest stuff pops into your head. I ended up saying “screw it” and rocking him to sleep despite my search-engine-made fears that I was ruining him forever, and told myself I’d worry about it later. In case I haven’t said it enough yet, I will say it again.


Do not search the internet for why your child’s poop is green.
Do not search the internet for how to get your child to sleep.
Do not search the internet for what to feed your child.
Do not… well… search the internet.

Take it from me. It’s a bad idea. That crap-tacular information from the obscure forum containing the information you were hoping to find WILL haunt you in the middle of the night. Your instincts will do you nicely, provided they don’t tell you to feed your two-month-old steak. In that case, you might want to call a friend. Or a parent. Or a hotline. Or your pediatrician. They all usually have tips/tricks that are tried and true, and not from the vast endless sea known as the internet.

Now that you’ve been properly warned, I made off with 4 hours of sleep. Lucky me! It’s most disappointing to have happened last night, because today was supposed to be my housecleaning day. Thankfully, my war socks are still working fine. I might just bribe myself with some painfully sad game in between the chores.

Now if you’ll excuse me, my sorry ass requires a shower.
The Handler.


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