For the past few days, our normally sweet toddler has been holding us captive, torturing us with her most powerful tool of terror: sleep deprivation. Instead of snoozing soundly for 11 hours a night, she’s waking multiple times, screaming so loudly I’m surprised we haven’t had a visit from the city police. Apparently, she’s cutting two-year molars just a bit ahead of schedule.
By 2 am this morning, we reached a breaking point. I went to Walgreens and bought every teething-related product they sold. I covered all possible bases, from the extra strength Ora-Gel to the homeopathic teething tablets. Nothing worked—not even the normally helpful Motrin/Tylenol cocktail. I’d guess we got about four hours of sleep between the three of us.
I took her to the doctor this morning, practically begging the doctor to find something wrong with her that could be effectively medicated. No such luck, but the doctor did suggest Benadryl to help her sleep. “One half teaspoon for Olivia,” she said. “Four teaspoons for mom and dad.”
I don’t think that will be necessary for us, but I am counting down the minutes until Olivia’s eyes become droopy.
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