The exact number of tiny teeth to expect (and how to survive them)

There I was, standing in our London kitchen at four in the morning with a screaming toddler on each hip, trying to sort through three entirely contradictory pieces of advice I’d received that week. My mother-in-law had cheerfully suggested rubbing a drop of whisky on their gums (absolutely not). The barista at Costa had confidently informed me that teething causes a 40-degree fever and I should immediately panic. Meanwhile, the mums in our NCT WhatsApp group were heavily debating the merits of Baltic amber necklaces, which they claimed would somehow align the girls' chakras and banish the pain entirely.

I just wanted to know when the screaming would stop, and more importantly, exactly how many of these calcified little torture devices I was supposed to be waiting for.

Parenting books will give you a neat little chart showing when each tooth arrives, but page 47 suggests you simply "remain calm and comforting" during an eruption, which I found deeply unhelpful while attempting to maintain my dignity while entirely covered in human drool.

The actual number of teeth hiding in their skulls

I finally cornered our health visitor during a weigh-in clinic and demanded to know what we were up against. She gently explained that babies eventually get 20 primary teeth in total—ten on the top, ten on the bottom. Because I've twins, my sleep-deprived brain immediately multiplied this by two, meaning our household was actively bracing for forty individual dental events. I nearly wept into the changing mat.

The most unsettling part is that these teeth are actually already up there, lurking under the gumline from birth, which frankly sounds like the premise of a Ridley Scott sci-fi film. You just can't see them until your baby suddenly decides to start gnawing on your collarbone like a starving woodland creature.

As for when they actually show up, our GP mumbled something about timelines being entirely subjective. Most babies apparently pop their bottom front teeth between six and twelve months, though Maya got her first at seven months and Zoe obstinately refused to grow a single tooth until her first birthday. From what I’ve managed to piece together from various doctors who speak in approximations, you can expect a mouth full of about six to eight teeth by age one, with the truly dreadful molars making their grand, painful entrance right around their second birthday (a joy we're currently experiencing in stereo).

The great fever conspiracy and the drool tsunami

Let's talk about the things to watch for, because this is where the internet will actively try to gaslight you. For months, every time one of the girls was vaguely irritable or had a weird nappy, someone would confidently declare, "Oh, it's just teething."

I spent an entire afternoon last week dressing Zoe in this adorable, vintage-style baby tee my wife found in a charity shop in Dalston, thinking she looked incredibly cool for our trip to the park. Within three minutes of leaving the flat, she unleashed a torrent of saliva so prolific that the prized baby tee was soaked completely through to her chest. The drool is relentless, the face-rubbing is constant, and quite frankly, unless someone invents a waterproof baby tee, we're going to run out of dry clothes before Thursday.

But thing is that our GP specifically warned me about when I brought Maya in with a burning forehead: teething doesn't cause a high fever. I know your aunt's neighbor's dog walker swears it does, but if your kid has a temperature over 38°C (100.4°F), they're actually sick. Believing the old "teething fever" myth is a brilliant way to accidentally ignore a blooming ear infection, which is exactly what Maya had. Oh, and the rumor that teething causes explosive diarrhea? Absolute nonsense according to our doctor, probably just a coincidence born of them putting literally every filthy thing they find on the floor into their mouths.

Things that genuinely stop the screaming

When you're in the thick of a molar eruption, you become desperate. You will buy anything. We quickly learned that you basically just want to find something reasonably clean, shove it in the fridge for ten minutes, and pray they chew on that instead of destroying your fingers.

The clear winner in our house, the one object I'd happily run into a burning building to save, is the Panda Silicone Teether. It's flat enough for their tiny, uncoordinated hands to grip properly, and because it's food-grade silicone, it doesn't turn into a rigid block of ice when you chill it. Zoe used to aggressively chew on the little panda ears when her front incisors were coming through. It's also entirely dishwasher safe, which is the only phrase I want to hear as a parent.

We also have the Bunny Teething Rattle. I'll be completely honest here—it's visually beautiful, the organic cotton crochet looks incredibly chic in the nursery, and it's entirely free of all those terrifying chemicals you read about at 2 AM. But Maya mostly just uses the hard beechwood ring to repeatedly bash the coffee table like a tiny drummer in a punk band. It distracts her from the pain of teething, sure, but perhaps not in the way the designers intended. It's lovely, just be prepared for the noise.

If you're dealing with a baby who constantly drops things out of the pram onto the filthy London pavements, the Squirrel Silicone Teether is a solid middle ground. It's shaped like a ring, meaning I can easily attach it to one of those dummy clips. The girls love the sensory bumps on the acorn bit, and I love that I'm not constantly washing pavement grit off it every five paces.

Looking for something that won't end up covered in dog hair on the living room floor? Browse our collection of sustainable teething toys that honestly survive the dishwasher.

The toothbrushing wrestling match

Perhaps the cruelest joke of all is that the moment these teeth finally break through the gums—after weeks of sleepless nights, Calpol syringes, and endless fussing—you're immediately expected to start taking care of them.

Our dentist cheerfully informed us that we needed to start brushing as soon as that first sharp little ridge appeared. You're supposed to use a tiny smear of fluoride toothpaste, about the size of a grain of rice, and gently brush twice a day. What they don't tell you is that brushing a one-year-old's teeth requires the physical dexterity of a judo champion. It's an absolute wrestling match. Most nights, I consider it a victory if the bristles just make fleeting contact with the enamel before the toothbrush is violently slapped out of my hand.

We're supposed to be preserving these primary teeth because they hold the space for the permanent ones, meaning if they rot and fall out early, the adult teeth will come in crooked. It's a terrifying amount of responsibility for someone who regularly puts his keys in the fridge, but we do our best.

If you're currently staring down the barrel of a teething baby, just remember that the drool eventually stops, the 20 teeth will eventually settle, and you'll eventually sleep again. Probably right around the time they hit puberty.

Ready to upgrade your teething survival kit? Check out Kianao's full range of organic and silicone baby accessories to find something your little one will genuinely want to chew on.

Messy questions about tiny teeth

When do babies really start teething?
If you go by the drool, you'll think it's starting at three months. In reality, their saliva glands just kick into overdrive around then, but the actual teeth might not show up until they're six to eight months old. It's nature's way of keeping you in a state of constant, low-level anxiety.

Is it true teething causes high fevers?
No, and I'll shout this from the rooftops. Our GP was very clear: a mild elevation in body temperature (like, feeling a bit warm) can happen, but a true fever over 38°C means your kid is fighting a bug. Don't write off a fever as "just teething" or you might miss a real illness.

Are amber teething necklaces safe to use?
Our health visitor gave me a look of pure terror when I asked about this. They're a massive strangulation and choking hazard, and there's absolutely no scientific proof that they do anything to stop pain. Stick to silicone toys you can put in the fridge.

How many teeth will they've by their first birthday?
It's a total lottery. The books say usually six to eight, but one of my twins had four and the other had literally zero. Try not to compare your baby's mouth to the kid in playgroup who looks like he could chew through a steak at 9 months.

Can I use those numbing gels on their gums?
I wouldn't. A lot of the old-school numbing gels contain things like benzocaine, which medical authorities have repeatedly warned are dangerous for infants. Cold washcloths, chilled silicone teethers, and a dose of infant paracetamol if they're really in agony are your safest bets.