It's official. The teeth have arrived.
It's a great feeling, because I can say, "She's teething!" and know that she's actually teething. Not just being a baby: mysteriously fussy and prone to being unpredictable.
Now, don't get me wrong. I feel sorry for Little Bean (as I call her sometimes*). She was just sad today, and cranky, and you could tell she was hurting.
But it's just annoying to say, "Maybe it's teething" every few weeks. Or have people tell me, "She's teething! Definitely!" I mean, at some point, saying that has no meaning, you know?
These teeth, they are like Godot.
*I'm a lot more indiscriminate with my terms of endearment with Julia. Besides Little Bean and Baby Monster, there's Little Goon and Little Boober. I don't even know what a boober is, but Julia is one, apparently.