Well, finally she's done it. A tooth is fighting it's way through those fierce little gums and making it's grand appearance on the baby's face. Yes, finally, it is really on it's way. A sharp little dagger of a tooth. And I am terribly excited for her- just because having the ability to chomp is very good and fulfilling. But I fear for what lies ahead for us. She is already totally guilty of (while nursing) turning her head sharply to the side to see what's going on behind her while still attached. And yes, I gasp/hollar/pull her off, but she hasn't seem to understood yet that "turning your poor mama into a green bean" (as her papa puts it) is not the kindest thing to do the hand that feeds you. (Hand or whatever...)
Her new tooth is making it's entry into this world in kind of a take your time sort of way. It's been on the horizon for about three months. She has been shoving everything into her mouth since she was about four months old, and now finally that little guy on the bottom right is showing up. The poor little one was in quite a state last night before bed, but she seems to have chilled out enough to sleep (thanks to Hyland's teething gel. I love that stuff.)
And likely I will need a gallon of it by the time she's done cracking this mouthful.