Biting the hand that feeds you.

I realise this pithy little proverb is more about animals than people but it really is the way to sum up my last week. Tristan got two teeth - bottom teeth. He has been using them. I am not kidding when I say feeding that boy is like playing Russian roulette. I am NOT enjoying myself. Why why why do all my children bite me. I feed them so often, I am happy to feed them whenever they are hungry, I think I am a good supplier so, why why why do they insist on biting me. Every.single.one.




I need to remember this hard job is worthwhile in the end, but I am filled with dread many times a day as I head into a darkened room, warn the other children if they come near me I will release punishments upon them both lengthy as they are unpleasant and sit down holding my breath, shoulders tensed waiting for the inevitable.
I hope this settles down soon, or else there may be strike action*

* this is a passive aggressive move which I never intend on following thru - it is a shallow threat to somewhat make myself feel better and intimidate my 6 month old son who cannot read nor use the interweb into improving his feeding behaviours.


I wrote this somewhere