My breasts are no longer safe. They tremble with fear at each feeding, it is like they are going swimming in the ocean with a huge man eating shark who has tasted blood and wants more. Except they aren't swimming and the thing with teeth is Madelyn.
This morning as Madelyn was laying in bed beside me playing and I was attempting to make the most of my time in bed by having my eyes closed, I was kicked in the face, had my nose pinched, got smacked in the forehead with a pacifier and then, most startling of all, had my finger bit. With teeth. Teeth that she didn't have yesterday. Teeth that slipped through the gums without so much as a hint of discomfort. Two teeth...plural of tooth. Twin teeth of doom. Teeth that are sure to wreak havoc on things, said things being my mammaries.
She has spent this morning discovering the new teeth by working her lips and her tongue and gnawing on everything. OK, the gnawing thing isn't new...she has done that for months. She loves to taste EVERYTHING. This flat surface, this one right here that hasn't been disinfected because you know babies can't pick up headboards and put them in their mouths, yeah, that one...she'll lick it.