Tooths!

Connor is definitely teething.  This morning I just thought he had gotten up on the wrong side of the bed - he was whiny, not very smiley, and clingy.  When I picked him up from Amy's she said he had only taken 30-minute nap this afternoon and had been a bit of a pill all afternoon.  I even heard him grumbling as I walked up the stairs to get him.  We had a little talk on the ride home, but he continued to whimper and grab onto me like there was a raging fire beneath his feet when we got out of the car.

Walks usually calm the savage beast in all of us, but this particular jaunt didn't, at least not for 'Rad.  He continued to whine like a squeaky wheel and didn't show any signs of enjoying himself until we were in the house and he was free to roam.  La de da, everything is going well.  'Rad is checking out the porch, banging on the sliding glass door, and coating himself in dog fur.  Then I sit him down for dinner.  He's chowing away, and then the whining begins again.  It felt like I needed to oil my ear drums.  Then I ran my fingers along his bottom gums...Bingo!  Nothing is poking through yet, but you can feel the beginnings of a bottom front tooth popping up.  Preemptive adios, gummy smile.  Early goodbye, toothless grin.  I will miss you but am glad that I'm not breastfeeding.

Connor engaged in a very complex, ancient baby-ball dance.  Or maybe he's bear crawling.  Your call.

But thank goodness he's still on the bottle.  Having that magic contraption in his hands does soothe the savage teething beast and just as well the maybe-not-as-savage-definitely-not-teething beast.