Teeth. For such little things, they sure are a pain.

Poor Ella is teething.  And, she has a bad cold.  But, she does it in her own non-complaining, life is peachy way.  When Breckin teethed, he was a maniac.  (What?  So I compare my kids.  Not in a competitive way, just in a way to gauge my parenting.)  He bit our chins, screamed bloody murder, and didn't sleep.  He couldn't be satiated, didn't want anything, but wanted everything.  He was kind of a disaster when it came to teeth.  And, he drooled.  Like, we went through three bibs a day drool.

Not Ella.  She plays quietly on the floor gnawing on some poor Fisher Price little people's head.  She scoots around, pulls herself up on the ottoman, and steals Breckin's toys with a smile.  She's content, mostly, and only gives me grief when I stop reading stories at night.  But today?  I think the teeth kicked into high gear.  She's got four little babies on the bottom already and now has FOUR MORE WHITE NUBBIES on the top.  Four.  At a time.  Good lord woman.

So, she was totally fine playing on the floor.  I walked over to pick her up and give her a hug and play in the mirror and Swipe, Smack, Chomp.  She pressed her little head as hard as she could against my head, swiped her smushed up, slimy, slug trail nose across my cheek, smacked me in the face with both hands, and bit down like a frickin gator right under my eye.  I think she's had enough.  I couldn't see her face when I reached for her or I would have armed myself with a Boogie Wipe.  She had the unfortunate green river from nose to lip- hey, it happens when you can't sniff or blow your own nose- and donated it all to my eyes, cheeks, and hair in one foul swoop.  Then, and maybe it's cause she was surprised about being picked up or really happy to see me, clapped me like a patty cake on the temples.  And, chomp.  When those teeth hurt, she bites.  I guess.  I had a small spot of blood and a little pinch mark from the bite but it took about three Boogie Wipes to get us back to good.

She cried.  I laughed.  I was so surprised by her insanity- and maybe so was she.  I ran my finger across those new teethies and she pressed down so hard.  Poor baby must hate those things.

The insanity continued at bath time.  She usually just splashes and gnaws on a few squirty fish.  Today- not so much.  She was like a mad scientist in a toy tasting lab.  The minute she hit the water, she was possessed.  Her arms were flailing.  Her feet were frog kicking.  She looked panicked.  She swung one arm like a buckin bronco rider and used the other to snatch every tub toy rapidly and chomp down really hard.  If it wasn't tasty, it got tossed out.  With unnecessary roughness.  I ducked out of the way after getting hit by a rubber duck and let her finish her task.  She settled on a thick, foam puzzle piece and made her mark with four tiny tooth prints.  The legs stopped, the arm stopped, and she was normal.  It was crazy.

Tomorrow I'm wearing a helmet and making loud noises upon approach.  I'll be armed with wipes, chunks of foam, and her favorite baby doll.  She's crazy.  Good thing she's getting four at a time.  I don't know what I'd do if this was all over one tooth.