Poor little baby

The past week has been a rough one for Sophia. She's getting three teeth at the same time: two beside her bottom teeth and a bottom molar.

With that, of course, has come a fever, a runny noise and a cough. The past couple nights she has woken up at least once in the middle of the night. But last night was the worst.

Every hour, or less, she would wake up because her cough was bothering her so much. And there was nothing that seemed to be helping.

Not the humidifier, not an elevated crib mattress, she didn't want much to do with any milk, juice or water, and rocking her was only a temporary solution. At one point she was kicking, screaming, and flailing her body around so violently that we joked at one point we needed to call in an exorcist.

She had no fever. And there was anything serious enough about her cough or the way she was feeling that we needed to go to the hospital.

It was simply a combination of being in pain from teething, sick, overtired and restless that made her so irritated.

During one of her middle of the night awakenings we were at a loss of what else we could do to calm her down. I got up from the rocking chair, turned on the light and reached for the box of Cheerios on top of the fridge.

"Do you want some Cheerios," I asked.

"Yes," Sophia answered.

We had found an answer. We put her in the high chair, poured some Cheerios on her tray and at 1 a.m. she feasted on some Cheerios.