Teeth.

I know I've told you about his teeth, but I realized I hadn't shown them to you yet. I tried to take some pictures of them today, but he was a little less than cooperative. This was the best I could do...

I tricked him into showing us some more teeth in this video.



Am I the only one that thinks his top teeth make him look a bit like a hippo?

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Teeth.

Oliver has four teeth now. His second top one just came in as of.... well, I'm not quite certain because I didn't actually notice it until he bit me yesterday and I pried open his mouth to take a look. Now he thinks it is great to grind them together and make the most terrible noise ever. I think getting all of those teeth in has givin' him a bit of a 'tude. You know, because you can't just bust out four teeth without being some kinda badass.

So, with his new attitude he has decided he does not like quite a few things. And if he doesn't like it, why, he will scream at you! Hit you! And he's only 7 months old. Oh, and did I mention he thinks the word "no" is the funniest concept in the world? I sense there will be a need for some strong discipline in this house.

Things he now declares to be the worst things ever to exist in the world:
1. Green veggies.
2. Getting his face or hands washed after a meal.
3. Putting on the second leg of his pants.
4.  Not allowing him to eat the food off of your plate.
5. Pushing the computer out of his reach.
6.  Toys he was loving up until 2 minutes ago.
7.  Our kind neighbor.
8. Being weighed at the doctor.

He never used to scream at these things, but now he does. I'm wondering if he's not some sort of genius, and he has already progressed to "terrible twos" before turning 1. Because... well... sometimes it is seeming pretty terrible up in here. But you'd never guess it from these pictures I took in the park. He has most everyone fooled.

(Also I was trying out different settings on my camera. Can you tell?)

My baby is a vampire.

We already know that I don't like nursing. I've stuck with it because I know it is good for him and if I distract myself enough each time I feed him, I don't notice that I don't like it. But now I can'ti gnore it. He bites. With a vengeance. This morning he bit me so hard that I bled. I cried.

He laughed.

And my thought was... seriously!?! YOU LAUGH ABOUT MY PAIN?!! I don't think you understand, kid. Even as far back as a year ago, you were making me feel like a disgustingly overstuffed sausage.  You kicked my ribcage to mush. You robbed me of my dignity, making me pee when I sneezed. All summer long I was hot and sweaty and I couldn't breathe. Then, in the culmination of all things uncomfortable, you tore me a new one on my lady bits. Literally.

And, believe it or not, it didn't stop there! You took away my sleep. You've scratched my boobs to ribbons. You killed any semblance of personal hygeine, household cleanliness, presence of mind that I had. My social life is lacking and the costs to keep you are astronomical.

And I accept this. I will smile my way through that. I understand that you had no real say in any of those things... But when you intentionally BITE THE NIPPLE THAT FEEDS YOU, I put my foot down.

Or at least I would, if I knew how. I tried, really I did.  I've shouted OW! I've screamed NO! I've put away my boob and distracted you. Either you bawl or you laugh, with no consistent patterns. I am baffled. I don't know how to stop you, aside from weaning, which I really do not want to do yet.

So maybe, please, you would consider not biting me? Your new teeth are great and all but I cannot rock the bleeding nipples look. I shouldn't have to figure out how to get bloodstains out of my bras.

So, please?  Pretty please? I'll let you have a sip of my water. You can stay up late tonight. You can have two stories before bed. I'll let you take a bath without making you wash your hair. I won't leave you in any mechanical mothering machines all day!!

Can't we reach an agreement?