When Do Babies Teeth? An Honest Timeline For Exhausted Parents

I was standing in the checkout line at Trader Joe's in 2019, balancing a frozen pizza on my hip because I didn't grab a cart, when the contradictory advice started. Maya was about five months old, wearing a mustard yellow onesie that was completely, totally saturated with drool. Like, she looked like she'd been swimming. The cashier, a sweet older lady, leaned over and said, "Oh, the poor thing is teething, just rub a little bourbon on her gums before bed." Which, no. Then my phone buzzed with a text from my mother-in-law telling me that Maya's low-grade fever was "just her teeth coming in" and to buy an amber necklace. Then my husband Dave walked up, handed me my third iced coffee of the morning, looked at our fussy, drooling child, and confidently declared, "I think she's just going through a leap."

Three people. Three completely different opinions on what was happening in my baby's mouth. I remember going out to our Honda CR-V, sitting in the passenger seat with my faded black yoga pants stuck to my legs, and just staring into the abyss.

Because when do babies teeth, really? I had absolutely no idea. I thought it happened at, like, three months. Or maybe nine months? At 3 AM Dave literally typed 'how to soothe teething babi' into his phone because his thumbs were so tired they forgot how to spell, and the internet basically just yelled back at us with twenty different timelines. I've a frantic text to my sister from around that time asking 'when does babie teething end' because I was so sleep-deprived I was losing my grip on the English language.

Anyway, the point is, nobody really tells you what the timeline actually looks like until you're in the thick of it, covered in saliva and wondering if you'll ever sleep a full night again. Brutal.

Wait, when does the first one actually pop through

So, finding out when do babies teeth come in is kind of an exercise in maddening patience. Apparently, there's no single day you circle on the calendar. Dr. Miller, our amazing, highly-caffeinated doctor, told me that it's a massive, sweeping window.

With Leo, our oldest, his two bottom front teeth—I guess they call them lower central incisors, which sounds like dinosaur teeth to me—popped through when he was barely four months old. He was a tiny, bald little potato, and suddenly he had these two razor-sharp white slivers in his mouth. It was terrifying. Every time he smiled he looked like a tiny, aggressive jack-o'-lantern.

But Maya? Maya didn't get her first tooth until she was almost eleven months old. I was practically dragging her to the dentist in a panic because I was convinced she was just going to be gummy forever. Dr. Miller just kind of shrugged and told me it's totally normal for some kids to take their sweet time, and that I really only needed to worry or see a pediatric dentist if she hit 15 to 18 months with no teeth. So, you know, when do babies finally get these things? Somewhere between four and twelve months, generally. Usually the bottom two first, then the top two front ones, and then they kind of just start filling in the gaps in pairs until they've a full set of 20 by the time they're three. Which seems like an aggressive amount of teeth for a toddler to have, but what do I know.

The whole fever myth (that I totally fell for)

I'm going to talk about this for a minute because I was so ridiculously misinformed. I was absolutely convinced—because my mom told me, and her mom told her—that teething causes fevers.

When Leo was about seven months old, he woke up feeling like a tiny radiator. I took his temperature, it was 101.2, and he was chewing aggressively on his fist. I just assumed, oh, okay, more teeth are coming, let's just ride this out. I didn't even call the doctor for two days. When I finally dragged a sweating, miserable Leo into the clinic, wearing my pajamas at 2 PM, Dr. Miller looked at me with this very gentle, pitying expression.

She told me that teething doesn't cause a real fever. Like, a temperature over 100.4 is not from teeth pushing through gums. She explained that right around the time babies start teething, their maternal antibodies are wearing off, and they're simultaneously shoving literally every germ-covered object they can find into their mouths to soothe their gums. They aren't sick *because* of the teething, they're sick because they just licked the waiting room floor trying to scratch their gums. Leo had an ear infection. I felt like the worst mother on the planet. Oh god.

So, yeah, increased drooling? Yes. Chewing on the dog's tail? Yes. Mild fussiness and totally wrecked sleep? Absolutely. But a real fever means they picked up a bug. Oh, and people say they get diarrhea from teething too, which Dr. Miller said is also just false, so whatever.

What we actually shoved in their mouths

When the drool is flowing like a river and they're screaming, you get desperate. And honestly, not all teethers are created equal. We bought so much plastic junk from big box stores before I genuinely started paying attention to what my kids were putting in their mouths for hours a day.

My absolute, holy-grail, can't-live-without-it lifeline with Maya was the Squirrel Teether. I vividly remember driving to my in-laws' house for Thanksgiving—it was raining, traffic was awful, and Maya was losing her mind in the car seat. I blindly reached into the diaper bag, pulled out this mint green silicone squirrel, and handed it back to her. Instant silence. The shape of the ring is just perfectly sized so she could seriously hold it herself without dropping it every four seconds, and she would gnaw on the little acorn detail like it was her job. I love that it's just one solid piece of food-grade silicone, no weird crevices for mold to grow in, and I could literally just toss it in the dishwasher. If I had to give a baby shower gift to a first-time mom, this is exactly what I'd put in the basket.

We also had the Bunny Teething Rattle for Leo. And look, it's ridiculously cute. The little crochet bunny ears look adorable in photos, and he definitely liked the hard wooden ring for counter-pressure on his gums. But honestly? The crochet part gets so soggy with drool. Like, instantly. I found myself having to hand-wash the yarn part constantly, and waiting for it to air dry when your baby is currently screaming for it's just not the vibe. It's beautiful for a nursery aesthetic, but maybe not the heavy-duty workhorse you need for a 3 AM teething crisis.

And because babies love to throw the thing that brings them the most comfort directly onto a dirty floor, we finally invested in some Wood & Silicone Pacifier Clips. I used to just let the teether fall on the ground, wipe it on my jeans, and hand it back—which is probably why they got so many colds, honestly. These clips just attach to their onesie so the squirrel teether genuinely stays off the dirt. Plus the silicone beads on the clip itself became a secondary chew toy. Lifesaver.

If you're currently in the trenches of the drool days, just do yourself a favor and browse the sustainable teething collection—getting something safe and easy to clean is half the battle.

The stuff that seriously scares the crap out of me

So anyway, once Dr. Miller educated me about the whole fever thing, she also made me promise to throw out the numbing gels we'd bought at the pharmacy, and to never even look at those liquid-filled plastic rings or those terrifying amber necklaces that apparently do nothing but act as a strangulation hazard.

I guess there are FDA warnings about teething gels with benzocaine or belladonna because they can cause these super rare but fatal side effects in infants? Which is terrifying that they still sell them right on the shelf next to the baby shampoo. And the liquid rings—if your baby seriously gets a sharp little tooth, they can puncture the plastic and drink whatever weird blue chemical water is inside. I just... no. We stuck to solid silicone, cold washcloths from the fridge, and occasionally a weight-appropriate dose of infant Tylenol when things got really, really bad in the middle of the night.

That one time I tried to brush a single tooth

You'd think that once the tooth comes in, the hard part is over. Ha. Then you've to start brushing it. Our pediatric dentist told us we needed to start brushing the minute that first little white cap broke the gumline, using a tiny smear of fluoride toothpaste the size of a grain of rice.

Trying to brush a six-month-old's single tooth is like trying to brush the teeth of an angry, slippery badger. They bite down on the brush. They try to suck the toothpaste off. They thrash around. You basically just have to lay them on the floor, wipe their drool-covered chin with a soft cloth to stop the inevitable rash, get in there for five seconds with a soft silicone finger brush, and pray you did enough to stop baby bottle tooth decay.

It's messy, it's exhausting, and it feels like it lasts forever. But then one day, they're four years old, eating apples like it's nothing, and you kind of forget how hard those drooly, sleepless months genuinely were.

Before you dive into the weird questions I usually get asked by my friends who are having their first babies, take a deep breath. You're going to get through this. Check out Kianao's safe, non-toxic teething essentials to make the journey a little bit easier on both of you.

The messy FAQ I always end up answering

Do babies sleep a lot when teething?
Oh god, I wish. In my experience, they sleep significantly less. Or rather, they sleep in terrible, jagged little fragments because their mouths throb. The pressure builds up right when they lay flat in their crib. So if your baby is suddenly waking up at 2 AM screaming after sleeping through the night for months, yeah, check their gums.

Can I put silicone teethers in the freezer?
No, don't do the freezer! I did this with Leo and my doctor scolded me. If the silicone or the washcloth gets rock-solid frozen, it can really bruise their already swollen, sensitive gums. Just put them in the regular fridge for like 20 minutes. It gets cold enough to numb the pain without causing damage.

How long does the fussiness last for one tooth?
Usually, it's just a few days before the tooth breaks the skin, and maybe a day after. Once that sharp little edge cuts through the gumline, the intense pressure releases and they go back to being their normal, cheerful selves. Until the next one starts moving, anyway.

Is it normal for a baby to not eat much while teething?
Totally. Maya basically went on a nursing strike every time a new tooth was coming because the suction hurt her gums. Sometimes she would only eat cold things, like chilled applesauce or cold milk. As long as they're staying hydrated and having wet diapers, you just kind of ride out the picky phase for a couple of days.

What's a drool rash and how do I stop it?
It's exactly what it sounds like—a red, angry, bumpy rash around their mouth, chin, and neck from being constantly wet with saliva. You just have to keep a super soft organic cotton cloth nearby and gently pat (don't rub!) them dry all day long. I also used to slather a little barrier cream on Maya's chin before naps to protect her skin.