I've often wondered

if I am the only one who felt that when those little teeth comes, my baby ain't such a baby no more. Like they've grown up a little, and now I could start to yearn for another little one.

I was feeding D4-the-baby tonight when I made a mistake of grabbing my new Sherilyn Kenyon's Dark Hunter book. It's a really good book, so I take every opportunity to read it here and there. I am halfway through it. Anyway, my baby noticed right away that my gaze have drifted away.

First he complained by crying that pitiful sounding cry. It will make your heart ache listening to him. Except for the fact that there's no tears falling, of course. So I did what any self-respecting mother would do. I pretended to have stopped reading, and keep on reading anyway at a slightly different angle. Ah, the eye-strain I suffer for books I like!

Then I felt it...those sharp little needles, the angry look, and the strong impression of someone trying really hard at something. My first thought as a mother, I am proud of him for trying whatever. He's only 5 months, but he knows to try. Then a millisecond later, ouch! He's biting me!

Here he is soothing his gums because it's very traumatic when teeth first comes in. I am not sure yet if he's realized that now, he can really enforce his "rules" He now has joined the "soft voice, with a big stick" league. I am afraid of teeth. I mean, I've been bitten quite a few times obviously, and I am scared of it.




I feel like I must make no sudden movements, don't show fear. I am happy and sad all at once that my baby is growing older by another month. Pretty soon, he'll be bringing home the girl of his dreams, letting me met his future bride. Oy vey!