Don't let those supposed happy campers fool you. Sebastian broke from his usual happy dappy routine to be a screeching no sleep maniac the past several nights. And as a result, I had to let go of the smidgen of sanity that I had been saving for a rainy day. I think he maybe slept 26 consecutive minutes once ... otherwise it was just teeny feline naps that usually came to a screeeeeeching hault at the most convenient times ... when I was doing important things like shaving my left leg in the shower, watching the ever-edifying Bachelor, tending to Julia's pleasant demands, or teasing my hair.
Being the seasoned and veteran parent that I know I am, I figured he was just a stubborn babe and I was just about ready to let him cry it out at the ripe old age of 12 weeks. Luckily, I thought I caught Julia feeding him a penny so I went digging for copper and struck gold in the form of a bottom tooth. Perfect. I dipped into my bag of parenting no-nos and gave him a generous coating of teething gel, laughed at his soured and expressive reaction and I am confident that we will soon resume living in peace and loving harmony.
I'll have to consult my perfectly up to date and intangible baby book but I don't think Julia sprouted ivories until around six mature months. Next thing I know he'll be riding a bike sans training wheels and making fun of big sister Julia on her tricycle.