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October 19, 2007

September 19 - October 19

Dear Mr. Tooth, I mean, Dear Felix Milo,

That's right! you have a tooth. One single barely visible highly audible tooth. Huh? Wha? I was oh so busy at work when it happened and I confess to the great joy I felt all over when your father rang me with the news. Yes, and well, you've take to crouching down along any of the wood edges around the house and scraping alongside it as though your were building a dam to heal yourself of I guess the pain and discomfort that causes you..

Table (Medium).jpg

With this new tooth there are big responsibilities. Responsibilities involving spoons and bibs! Yes, Felix Milo, you have finally agreed to eat. Actually allow food to go past your tongue and into your belly. You've come around so well and so all of the a sudden on this point. For a solid and relentless month and half we tried to feed you daily. Until one day you heartily and most greedily accepted the banana bit off my finger. You went on to consume pots full of cooked apples, rice porridge, avocado, rice cakes, beets, turnips, potatoes.

Spoon (Medium).jpg

With no small amount of humor I went to buy you a teeny tiny tooth brush on the recommendation of the nurse at the Baby Clinic. And while not even a millimeter tall we started to brush your witsy bitsy tooth after your last bottle.

Responsibilities involving extra frequent diaper changes! I'm fairly sure it's neither this new tooth nor the loads of varnish you've scraped up that has caused the, how can I put this delicately, the marked change in your diaper. And speaking of diaper changes, how about staying a bit more still during the process. You've taken to doing Extreme Yoga while i desperately chase you around the house to wipe you little tushie.

While I hardly feel like we are on easy street considering how you've turned the Most Excellent Sleeper, that would be me, into one who barely gets more than 4 hours in a row, you are each day a bit more fun, a lot more adorable, and a better beat boxer than the day before. You are so good at beat boxing that I suggest you take one of your too small hats and collect some money in the park with those mad musical skills of yours.

Patio (Medium).jpg

I've tried to teach you a few things this month, most notably how to be gentle. You've take as well to that as you have to the sippy cup, which is to say, not at all. I try to take the fists full of hair and to show you how to pat my head. I guess it serves me right considering all the boogers i try to pluck out of your nose (i'm obsessed,sorry). I try to raise my voice, but seems that just makes you laugh. No..Let Go...Stop That...You are hurting me...you turn and smile and sometimes dare even to laugh as I'm being serious. All I ask is that you pull my hair gently, poke out my eyes gently, eat my chin without so much tooth scraping. Felix, I'm being serious. No rainbow suspenders, no watermelon into the crowd, I'm not Gallegher, I'm Serious. Stop laughing because then I laugh and then No becomes something cute. No is not cute.

You understand, right?

Love, Mama

Posted by talia at October 19, 2007 5:58 AM