In which teeth are evil and chocolate reigns supreme.

My child's new favorite game is sitting on my lap and watching my monitor.  He also loves to bang on the keyboard.  I'm fairly certain this is a sign that he's going to grow up and create new fantastic technology and become richer than Bill Gates could ever dream of.

In other news, I've learned one new fact of life.  Teeth are evil.

You may not think much of this, as you chew on your hamburger or nibble away at a delicious, buttery corn on the cob.  It might be a vague thought as that nagging little cavity spasms in pain as you get halfway through your bag of Skittles.  It's kind of on your mind when you're pregnant with your first kid and think, "Man, everyone says the teething is the worst."  But you don't have a clue.

L.J. doesn't even have a hint of pearly bits on his gums.  While this makes me happy (toothless baby grin is my favorite way to wake up in the morning), it also makes me feel this nasty little sense of dread.  Like, how much longer do I have to put up with this?!

He screams.  He shrieks.  He flails about.  He acts as though I am killing him when I try to coax him to nurse a little longer.  He chews on anything he can get in his mouth, and some things he can't.  He won't sleep.  He's too tired to sleep.  So go to sleep, you little bastard angel.  You'll feel better when you wake up!  But does he listen?  Of course not.  Because babies know everything.  Which is why we're miserable.

However, in the midst of this agony (in reality, this is nothing compared to "real" teething when cutting teeth, or so I hear) he has had some wonderful changes.  He can now hold his bottle by his little baby hands.  He constantly shouts/yells/mumbles/squeals "Mamamama dadadadadada babababababa", which is his new favorite sound.  He can latch onto a nipple from about 10 feet away with unerring precision.  And he's just plain gosh darned cute.

Motherhood.  Gotta love and hate it.  If you want to survive it, just grab a pan full of brownies.  It'll get you through at least a few hours.  And no, you don't feed it to the baby.  What a waste that would be... You don't think moms and grandmothers bake cookies for the kids, do you?

Why is he wearing a hat indoors, while naked, playing in his jumparoo? Um. Because he wanted to. Obviously.