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You would think that after your kid gets their first tooth, you would stop getting so damn excited. I mean, most baby books only have a spot for you to fill in a date for the first tooth. Fortunately, I’m not sticking to any rules, regulations, or guidelines about how I should limit my excitement to certain events that an author of some baby book deems important. (Nope, scrapped the baby book when it didn’t have a spot for me to fill in “First time you broke an electronic device with urine.”)

Until last week, Munchie… officially beyond the one year mark… still only had three bottom teeth. (Charlie, Roberto, and the third tooth that I am kicking myself for not blogging about… apparently tooth number three is less exciting.) All three teeth sit in a cute little row on his bottom gum. Freaking adorable.

Well, last week (while we were on vacation and couldn’t sleep), we noticed this front top teeth were incredibly close to popping though. (But they have been pretty close for about a month… maybe more. I am convinced top teeth are just a cruel joke.) We blamed his lack of sleep on these tiny front top teeth trying to wiggle themselves down, cutting through his poor little gums.

Umm… we were wrong. Every morning, I would check his front gums to see if any  of the little buggers had made their debut… and no. Nothing. But, one morning, Munchie grabbed my hand and plunged my finger further into this mouth. HOLY HOCKEY STICKS! WTF WAS THAT?!?! I stuck my finger back in, but this time, he shoved it to the other side of his mouth. ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!?!

Two top molars. (Bertha and Gertrude.) Before any top front teeth. Escuchame?!?! (I use this in the same Texan tone as Peggy Hill… like Excuse Me?… even though I know that isn’t what it means.) Seriously though. No wonder he had been so crazy! He was pushing razor sharp, semi-truck sized, teeth through his poor little baby gums. So… then there were five.

But tooth numero seis, Earl (Jo Bob Billy), appeared yesterday. FINALLY. I don’t know what took him so long, but he is certainly the hillbilly cousin that has moved into Munchie’s mouth. We are quite hopeful the other top teeth will show up soon… but until then, Earl is making Munchie’s smile look like something you would only find in the back woods of West Virginia. (Shout out to all our family in the Wild and Wonderful state. Go Mountaineers!)

Maybe Munchie’s relatives will send some moonshine to help get us all through the rest of this process. But, until then… it’s Tylenol, gripe water, teething tabs, and orajel for the little buckaroo… and wine for Momma Bish. Cheers!

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