no bite!

He bit me!
Braeden bit me, the little scamp!

It's somehow more insulting this time around.

I breastfed Abigail until she was something like 12.... oh, wait.... she's only 4, so it must have only felt like 12 years. Maybe it was more like 27 eternal months. Well, as soon as she started getting teeth, and the biting started (that's right- when she'd crunch down on a breast- cringe if you must), I'd pull her off with a screech. A loud mommy that takes away food was a quick lesson for one Abigail Rose.

Since the breastfeeding with Braeden was a six week massacre, it took him until today to find a decent place on mommy to try out the new pearls (already the boy develops more slowly than the girl). Yes, the shoulder is a better place to take the blow, but this time I fell victim to six fully erupted little hammers.

So it happened that Braeden received his first bout of feedback from mommy that sent him into a fit of tears, a holler and a backward yank. It's a bittersweet thing, really. When the little one reacts with crying, I know I've made an impact. He gets that x leads to y and y is unpleasant. Yet, the little guy has a head cold right now. He felt unpleasant enough without hearing he couldn't tear off a tasty bite of mommy.

Alright, maybe just a tiny sliver off the collar bone if his fever jumps above 103.