My little Nib is slowly but surely making her way into her one-hood. People may talk about one-ness, but in this case it's not unitive so much as descriptive: the girl is one year old. I mean, she's been one for a while now, but it's not over yet, right?
Long story short, she had five or six teeth for a good long time. Now, after a quick trip to Denver -- Boom! -- she popped out another lateral incisor and a couple of of bi-cuspids (one-year molars).
Since I am the official tooth counter in the family, I am officially taking note.
What I had forgotten however, is how cranky teething kids are. (You'd think I'd be accustomed to it by now.) Short nights, fitful sleeping, fever. The girl who wouldn't be caught dead putting anything, much less food, in her mouth, now picks up anything from the floor and puts it in her mouth.
Nib still breast feeds some, but Mrs. Nod just keeps giving her the eye. "If she bites me, she's cut off." Not that I blame her, those suckers are sharp.
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