This week was the worst of times and, well, the worst of times.
Have you ever seen such an adorable mini vampire before? Those two little terrifying fangs hanging down? Marshmallows everywhere are hiding in fear.
As adorable as those teeth may be, any parent will tell you that their formation has been anything but cute. Those two guys in the front -- and their five or six friends -- have created late night tears, public tantrums, random fevers, and hours and hours of whimpering.
Belle was a late bloomer in the teeth department. She didn't sprout chomper No. 1 until she was 15 months old, which according to the all-knowing Internet is about eight months late.
Apparently, her Dad was a late bloomer, too:
Look at that smile. (I think that's a smile?)
Have you ever seen such a terrifying face? Those hairy, swollen cheeks? Women everywhere are hiding in fear.
At the ripe old age of 34, I had my wisdom teeth out this week. Most people have them removed between the ages of 18 - 24. I didn't necessarily drag my feet; I just wasn't really champing at the bit to get it done. My dentist mentioned it a couple appointments ago and, finally, he said it was about time.
Like most everyone, I'd heard my share of horror stories and "it wasn't so bad" stories. People screaming into pillows from the pain. People back at work the next day. People losing 10 pounds because they couldn't eat. People who ran a 5K the following day. My experience was somewhere in between. It hurt quite a bit and I still can't fully open my mouth, but I got to eat a bunch of delicious ice cream and I'm here to type the tale.
Still, what will forever be known as "teeth week" in the Briddon house has been pretty exhausting. The result? Lots and lots of rest for me and Belle. Or, in the words of Charles Dickens, "... it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known."
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