Julie Jay: A random passerby commented on my baby's front teeth...

Our nine-month-old is teething and biting anyone and anything that stands there long enough, and I can’t say I blame him

"So far, No 2 has not gotten teeth at the same rapid speed, but has been suffering the effects of what has to be one of the major downsides of being a baby — teething." Pic: iStock

BACK in the 16th century, our old friend Queen Elizabeth I was said to be such a fan of the sweet stuff that she started wearing red lipstick to detract from her blackened smile.

During a period where sugar was an indulgence of the rich, she was said to consume around 2kg of sugar a year because telly hadn’t been invented yet and a girl has to get her kicks somehow.

As a side point, glaring red lipstick is generally not the best deflection technique. If you are looking to draw the eye away from your mouth, might I suggest drawing dramatic eyebrows with a permanent marker?

People will be so distracted by that hot mess they won’t notice the gappy grin. You’re welcome.

Similarly, George Washington was plagued by dental issues all his life. While the rumours he had wooden teeth have long since been rebuffed, he had a series of dentures engineered out of a mishmash of unlikely materials — including copper, ivory, and even hippopotamus teeth.

He suffered to such an extent that he often wrote about the pain he was forced to endure in letters, proving that even having a capital city named after you means nothing when you have a smile made up of hippo teeth and brass buttons.

No 2 child is nine-months-old now and, when it comes to his poor little gums, we are currently in the thick of it.

This week, a random passerby commented on the outline of his front teeth — which protruded more prominently than usual.

“Oh, he’s going to have two big ones,” the woman stated cheerfully, while I sat with the fact that my perfect little guy was probably going to have teeth like the Punch cartoon — which would only make him cuter if that was even possible.

When our now four-year-old was teething, they came in thick and fast. Before we knew it, he had a full set of gnashers that would have rivalled English comedian Rob Beckett or ’80s pop sensation Freddie Mercury.

So far, No 2 has not gotten teeth at the same rapid speed, but has been suffering the effects of what has to be one of the major downsides of being a baby—teething.

The worst part of the teething is seeing them in pain. Teethers, granules, Calpol — all are being dispensed regularly, and still none alleviate the ouch sufficiently for our little man who has to power through.

In 2024, it still seems mad that there’s no better way to get the teeth in than going through this antiquated and thoroughly cruel process.

In an era where AI can write our college dissertations and Siri save our marriage one virtual song request at a time, how has nobody invented a 3D printer for teeth? I feel we need to redirect our resources here. (Are you there Elon Musk? It’s me, Julie.)

Then there’s the nappy rash — it’s bad. I have no idea why the universe decided babies needed to endure more, not less, when they have multiple pieces of jagged bone slowly cutting through tiny gums.

No 2’s bottom is so red that it is basically the national flag of Tibet at the moment, which only compounds his frustration at how things have inexplicably taken a turn for the worse.

One minute, your mom is dancing with you in the kitchen and improvising age-appropriate rap lyrics to early noughties block rocking beats. The next minute, you are slowly being put through the wringer with intermittent bursts of agony.

There isn’t enough cream in the world to stop his bum from looking like the time I decided wearing bicycle shorts through a field of nettles was a good idea circa 1997.

Yes — before biodiversity was a concerted thing we enjoyed the spoils of untended grass and the correlative natural world that resides there. If you’re a Gen Z, you probably read about worms and ladybirds in your history books — trust me, they were something.

Much like the dodo, their demise could have been prevented if we hadn’t embraced the spoils of disposable fashion. As Darwin once said, it’s always been a case of survival of the fashion-conscious.

Of course, with a sore mouth and bum to deal with, it’s no wonder none of us is getting much sleep.

I have the frayed nerves and unwashed hair to prove it. Still, it’s hard to feel sorry for ourselves when we are awoken by No 2’s little red face and piercing cry at midnight.

Most of his days are spent biting down on wooden animals, plastic spatulas, and anything else he can sink his teeth into — including the kitchen table and my finger when I go to check the progress on his menacing molars.

In an attempt to find some relief from what is a teething nightmare, the little guy is biting anyone and anything.

Much like those lovely vampires in Twilight who had to nibble at others to muddle on through, I can’t say I blame him.

Teething is one of those phases that reminds me how gruelling and relentless the baby period is.

Every now and again, when I fantasise about a potential baby No 3, I remind myself how agonising it is to watch them go through the torment of it all and how truly exhausting it is for the family too.

As No 2 suffers from a serious case of the George Washingtons, I think back to what a wise friend told me when I was bemoaning No 1’s terrible teething woes a couple of years back.

As much as she sympathised, she informed me that in many cultures — given their capacity for biting and tearing — teeth represent power and so, as horrible as the process was, gaining teeth was only a good thing.

More recently still, the same friend told me that many believe Queen Elizabeth I’s death was actually caused by blood poisoning, believed to have resulted from her use of a lead-based red lipstick.

The moral of the story is there are fates worse than dodgy smiles. Mysterious historical deaths? Now, that’s a subject I could get my teeth stuck into.