We’ve had a rough week. Admit it. We’re not friends. I can tell as you’ve barely smiled at me, let alone chuckled. Smiles seem to be reserved for mumma, and giggles for nana.
You’re suffering from teething pain, I know, and nothing seems to be quite hitting the spot. We have everything from a silicone hammer to a rubber giraffe, even a good old fashioned dummy. My fingers seem to work well, but it’s not so cute anymore when you chomp down. You’re often hitting bone! Not literally, but you may as well for the pain it creates. I love you, but I can’t quite take that.
What’s more is that you’ve now started chomping down at the end of a feed when you’ve had enough. That’s fun (!). What’s wrong with just coming off? Why the biting? What did I do to deserve that? You put so much effort into it that I’m starting to take it personally!
I really hope you learn to stop biting me soon, I’m not ready to stop nursing you. It’s our one moment of calm where it’s just you and me. Our special time. Just us. It’s bliss.
At the moment, however, it’s not so calm. My heart races at every feed and I’m sure you can feel me tense. I’m sorry, but it’s like dipping my nipple into a shark tank.
To top everything off, you’ve now started to grind your beautiful front teeth. Why? Who knows. The face you make is so very cute, but that’s the only pleasant feature – the sound is like nails to a chalkboard. Please stop.
Things can only get better, I hope, and next week is a brand new week. So pinky swear we’ll be friends next week, yeah? And no biting!