And I Thought I Had it Bad

Note the ring of drool on my shirt

I think I said this last week, but if this isn't teething, I don't want to know what teething is. But then again, at least it isn't open heart surgery! Been there, done that. However, my friend Mattie has his today.

Mattie is about two months younger than me and he has lived in the hospital since he was born! Whew! That, I cannot imagine. Hopefully after this surgery he will be able to finally go home. Please pray for Mattie like you did for me and then Hallel. I will keep you posted, but for more in depth reports from Mattie's mommy, based in Kansas City, USA, go here: http://tracieloux.wordpress.com/

I can't complain too much. But I will a little bit: Yesterday was a particularly grueling day as I drooled enough to fill an ocean. My thumb, other fingers and palm were sore from me gumming them all day. I moaned and travailed throughout the day and sought refuge behind a bottle or Baby Einstein Beethoven. Anything to keep the focus off my mouth.

In the meantime, however, allow me to issue a warning to the adults in my life: Stop prying into my mouth! I have established a moratorium on the "tooth watch" that takes place several times a day whether it is mommy or abba or friends of theirs who pull my lips apart and peer into my mouth in an effort to determine conclusively whether my odd behavior is being stimulated by the emergence of those pearly whites. Now I resist them by squeezing my lips shut and jerking my head back and forth wildly, making a good peek impossible.  

Everyone, of course, is hoping that teeth would mean an end to this minor disruption to my angelic behavior. However, lurking in the back of everyone's mind is the statement of the dentist who said that there is no proof that teething hurts us babies, casting doubt on whether or not there are any teeth popping through my gums at all. Then how would my latest idiosyncrasies be explained? 

Oral obsession

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