Somebody said to me, "I feel so bad for you carrying him around like that!" And it made me feel rather bad for myself, too. Note to self: sometimes, it is NOT GOOD to express empathy. Or would that be sympathy? After I got over feeling bad for myself, I started to feel rather indignant about the whole carrying-thing. And that is never a good place for me to be in....
But yesterday? Yesterday, the last tooth (in this round) poked through his gums. And today?
Today he's been like the smiley-baby (now turned toddler) that we all knew and loved. It's so nice. So, so nice. I can cook food again. I can run up and down the stairs without carrying an extra 23 pounds. Mattias sits happily in his chair. Or totters around exploring independently. AND he simultaneously has discovered books, meaning he retrieves them from the shelf and brings them to me to read. (Noah did this a lot earlier - Mattias has previously been too busy to bother with books.) So now, BOTH the piccolini sit on my lap quietly listening while I read books. It's kind of like being a Normal Rockwell painting.
We should celebrate our children getting their teeth. The process is such an ordeal for them. I'm already dreaming about the completion of the baby teeth set. If Noah's experience is any indication, we have about one more year to go with Mattias. And then we are going to throw one hell of a party.