Sorry about the geeky chemistry reference. (okay, I'm really not.) This Saturday, knowing we were facing a day full of rain (and potentially dangerous winds) from the remnants of Ike, we planned on staying in all day. Good thing, too, because Will was fussy and feverish. He was up at 6, down again for a nap by 9, and another at around 1 in the afternoon. He must be teething, we thought. Hah! That's an understatement. I stuck my finger in his mouth as he watched the downpour through the patio door and felt a bud on the lower right side behind his canine. Okay, I figured. That's about right. Let's see how the others are coming. I moved to the left side of his mouth. Ouch! He bit down with a molar that's already half in and one that's, oh, about 1/3 through. Rolf went back to check the other side, and the top right molar is starting to peek through.
For those of you keeping count, that's roughly 14 1/2 teeth in, 5 1/2 more to go before we get a break from this. For the real stat junkies out there, this will mean eight, yes, EIGHT teeth broken through between July 7 and September 21. Poor kid.
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