I know, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything. I just came off a really busy time at work which was sucking my creativity, energy, and will to live. Things continue to look busy for the foreseeable future, but I’ll try to stay on top of the blog for as long as I can.

In case people have forgotten, let’s take a quick review of what this child has done to me in the mere three months she’s been alive.

  • Drooled on me.
  • Spit up a cottage cheese-like substance on me.
  • Shit on me.
  • I’ll say that one again, since I fear many of you don’t understand the gravity of that sentiment. Shit on me.
  • Peed on me.

I have to admit, I’ve had a great deal of patience with the child throughout all of this. Hell, some may even say I’ve taken it in stride. But she’s a persistent little shit machine, and she’s pushed until she found something that dad can’t handle.

Leanne is at the age where her method of interacting with things in the world is to promptly shove them into her mouth. Just tonight, while she was laying in her crib as I filled the bath, I brought out a stuffed giraffe for her to play with. She’s never seen the giraffe before since it’s been on a shelf since before she was born. She reached out with both hands to welcome her new friend and surprised me with the accuracy at which she grabbed its neck with both hands (she also surprised me with the ferocity at which she squeezed its throat). At the same time as she reached out for the animal, she opened her mouth. In a lightning quick move, she grabbed the giraffe and shoved its left foot directly into her mouth. Maybe she’s marking her territory.

I don’t mind baby spit. It’s actually the least offensive of all her bodily fluids. I’m fine with picking her up to find a soaking wet bib or shirt. I think it’s cute that her baby kisses leave my face visible wet. I can even handle kissing her on the cheek and getting a mouthful of baby spit that’s dribbled out.

What I can’t handle is her new way of holding hands. Since literally day one, she’s liked grabbing onto my fingers. I think it’s adorable. Er, I thought it was adorable. Now, like the poor sacrificial giraffe, my finger is quickly used as a makeshift pacifier. The sucking sounds or weird feel of her tongue on my hand are actually cute in a way.

But this biting down with toothless gums on my finger has got to stop.

It’s the creepiest sensation ever. I’d rather her just have a mouth full of shark teeth and draw blood from me. No, instead I have this thin ridge of baby gums gnawing away at my finger. They are soft and kinda squishy, and completely friggin disgusting.

Between all the drool and chewing (she goes to town on a teething ring, probably because unlike me, the teething ring doesn’t cringe and start to gag as she chews), I’m expecting to have to deal with teething issues in short time. And why wouldn’t we. We just got down to a nice bed time routine, it’s about time something new came along to screw it all up on us.