Teething Twins

I thought nothing could be worse than a teething puppy. I still have PTSD as I recall the way my dog used to sink her spiky little crocodile teeth into my arm and not let go. Not to mention the long list of items which she chewed her way through, including my iPhone, night stand, wedding shoes, her “Most Improved” certificate from her obedience classes (the irony was not lost on me) and my glasses (the next available optometrist appointment was three weeks away, so I had to resort to taping my glasses together in the manner of Harry Potter).

She even chewed my friend’s Christmas lights (of course she chose to chew Santa’s head, leaving his butt to flash ominously in neon colours), my friend’s underwear (that wasn’t awkward at all) and his TV remote control (the poor guy had to watch CBC for days). The money I spent replacing all these items could have paid off my mortgage for a year.

But then I encountered my teething twins. And I’d happily surrender the above items (including my arm) all over again instead of this.

Take today, for example. My twins are smiling at me and I think, They look so cute. Maybe they’ll go easy on me for a change.  I lower them onto the nursing pillow and cautiously offer my nipple to Caitlyn.

HOLY CRAP! It’s like my nipple is being attacked by a piranha.

I yank my nipple out her mouth. Or try to anyway, because she’s still clamped on without any sign of relenting.

“No biting!” I yell at her. To my horror, Caitlyn smiles at me while Scarlett bursts into tears.
“No, no, I wasn’t yelling at you. I was yelling at your sister,” I try to explain, but Scarlett’s howling away. I quickly stuff my other nipple into her mouth to calm her down.

I suddenly feel like I’ve entered the world of Fifty Shades of Grey (not that I’ve read the book or anything). You mean people actually use nipple clamps for fun? Are you kidding me? What is wrong with those people?!

Meanwhile Caitlyn is still gnawing away at my nipple. I quickly grab my phone and consult with KellyMom. Right, that doesn’t sound so hard.
“Oh? Don’t want to nurse right now? Let’s end the nursing session,” I tell her calmly,  just like KellyMom advises. I pop her off my boob and set her down next to me on the bed.

Crikey! She’s screaming like a banshee. My hormones are going into overdrive. Why did God design us to get all stressed out like this when our babies cry? You’d think a hormone that relaxes you would make more sense. I can’t think right now. I’m in panic mode. Her crying is making me all irrational. Make it stop!

I quickly pop her back on my boob. She clamps down again. Why is she smiling so happily at me while she tortures me? I’ve created a monster.

I could really do with a glass of wine right now. Why are breastfeeding mothers not allowed alcohol, anyway? We’re the ones who need it most!

Oh, thank God. There’s a let-down. They’ve stopped biting and are sucking furiously.

Too bad the Tooth Fairy isn’t real. I would have paid a substantial lump sum for her to take all their teeth in one go.

Finally the twins finish nursing. I set them down in the crib and offer them Sophie the Giraffe. It cost me a small fortune (especially with having to buy two of them) but everyone swears by them so they must be good.

Wait– Sophie squeaks? Why did no one warn me? Now the dog is going crazy with all the noise. She thinks the toy is for her. This is all driving me insane.

I don’t think the twins like Sophie. They’ve chucked her to the other side of the crib. I offer her to them again. They pull a face and throw her away once more. They hate her. I spent a small fortune buying them and they hate her. Scarlett has resorted to chewing Caitlyn’s hand instead. What’s weirder is that Caitlyn seems to be enjoying it.

Wow, there’s so much drool everywhere. I think I’ve just found the solution to Africa’s drought crisis.

Oh dear. The twins have started crying and rubbing their ears. I think their gums hurt. I take turns rocking them but their cries are getting more frantic. This feels like the witching hours all over again.

Teething gel! That should do the trick. I quickly swipe some across their gums. Oops, almost lost a finger there.

Nope, it didn’t work. They’re still screaming.

Tylenol! Tylenol should do the trick. I grab the box and squint at the dosage.

Why is the font so small? Is this some kind of cruel joke?

OK, I think I can just make the writing out. Oh no. It goes according to weight. I don’t remember how much they weigh. Oh, whatever. I’ll just guess. Anything to make the crying stop.

After a long time they finally fall asleep and I breathe a sigh of relief. I’ll just have a quick look at Facebook before I also call it a night.

Well, of all the rotten things to pop up on my news feed, it had to be this.


Right, I’ve had enough. I’m going to bed. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

I quickly make a mental list of all the things I need to do tomorrow.

Number one on that list is checking whether my insurance covers reconstructive nipple surgery.

I’m a twin mommy who will make you feel better about your parenting skills. Sign up for e-mail updates at the bottom of this page if you want to follow my journey into insanity. You can also follow me on Facebook.


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