Ode to Orajel

This is my first post of my first blog for my firstborn son,  Finn Patrick Kane.  

Finn and I are visiting his Nonno (Italian for Grandpa) and Nonnie (Italian for Grandmother even if she is Irish with freckles) in for the week while his father toils away on his equity desk.    Daddy was just a little overzealous when I said, “What do you think about me staying a week at home with the baby?”  Captain Kane is enjoying his alone time, but I think he is missing the boy and perhaps the Mommy too.  

Mr. Finn is a little over 7 months.  I told myself that I was not going to be one of those parents that referred to their child’s age in such small increments of time.  Then you have the kid and you realize what a difference a few weeks makes.   

Baby Kane’s latest feat is cutting teeth.   In an effort to prepare for the onslaught at his last visit to the pediatrician I inquired if the doctor had any tips for soothing him.   The doc said, “What do you mean soothing him?”  He went on, “First, don’t assume that he will suffer.  Second, teething only causes teeth.”  I was not surprised by his comment since he had given the same line verbatim to my friend, Kim.   I did, however, wish I had his cell phone number at 4 AM when my little guy was writhing in pain for the third consecutive hour.

My mom took Finn from my arms and sent me to rest.  I closed my eyes and listened for his cry.

After the first night of teeth terror, the day went surprisingly well.   Mommy was dragging, but Finn was chipper.   He happily chewed on his toy hammer, books, crib railing, and the always accessible fingers.   

As night approached, there was an impending sense of doom.   My favorite suggestion for soothing his gums came from my Aunt Margie, my mom’s sister.   She swears by soaking a clothespin in whiskey and giving it to the child to suck.   All I could think was the kid would be drunk with a mouthful of splinters.   

We decided to meet her halfway and I rubbed a pinky of whiskey on his gums.   My father was holding Finn.  I had a shot of whiskey and my brother, Uncle Joe, peered over my shoulder.   

Finn’s face twisted up when I first dipped my finger in his mouth.   The next pass he started to suck eagerly.  While he may have liked it,  it did not do the trick.     So Uncle Joe jumped in his car and raced up to Walmart at midnight in search of Ambesol which was recommended by Finn’s Nana.   

He returned with a bagful of every baby teething product they had.   We snapped the top off the cherry flavored Baby Orajel and goo-ed up his little gums.   In a show of solidarity, goofy Uncle Joe swabbed his mouth too.    

The boys decided they would take shift with him now.   First,  Nonno and Uncle Joe wheeled the crown prince around the house in his stroller for a few laps.   Then, they strapped him into his car seat for a little ride to nigh nigh land.    They were barely out of the driveway,   when Uncle Joe leaned forward and whispered in Nonno’s ear, “He is snoring.”    Three cheers for Orajel!      


One Response to “Ode to Orajel”

  1. Jack Smart Says:

    Ok, heres what you need to do to fix your font problem.

    Click on the HTML button in the editor bar. (This will get you the raw html source of your post).
    Look for the font tags and remove them.
    Click update.
    Experience Joy.

    I think there is a setting in Word somewhere that will remove formating from the clipboard, that should stop this from happening again.

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