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The Bug has sprouted a tooth. As in a pearly white, calcium-filled, razor sharp dagger.

Nipples, be afraid. Be very afraid.

This has meant that the past few evenings have been less than restful and breastfeeding has taken on a whole new dimension of pain. It’s like I have my very own Edward Cullen.  Except more like one of those little evil baby vampires that make an appearance in the last DON’T YOU DARE HAVE SEX BEFORE MARRIAGE OR EVEN THINK ABOUT AN ABORTION EVEN IF THE FETUS IS GOING TO EAT OUT YOUR INSIDES book Breaking Dawn. Let’s just say that the Bug lacks Edward’s cool restraint and gentlemanly control.

The other evening, during one of FOUR midnight wakings between 11pm and 5am, I was dozing while letting the ornery one work it out on the boob. James was assed out next to us, snoring to high heaven. When all of a sudden, CHOP! The lady nips got their first taste of life with teeth. I reacted so violently that James about fell out of bed AND the dog jolted awake in the other room thanks to my ever so graceful, FFFFUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKKK!

I thought I had been dismembered. Turning my child into a cannibal. I anticipated blood from my little vampire. Except, as I mentioned, not in the sexy R.Patz sense. If I ever wondered about the sensation of a nipple piercing…wonder gone! Life with a piranha? UNDERSTOOD!

And to add to this desire to nom nom nom the boob, Addison’s motor control has grown leaps and bounds. Now, while she nurses, her baby hands grasp and yank and pull at whatever they can reach while ensuring that her mouth stays latched to the motherload. My head has fallen victim to a number of bald patches and my eyes have dodged the raptor claws, just barely. She may or may not have picked my nose. I guess pay back for my forging her boogies.

Who knew that that my sweet baby girl would be such a deadly weapon?

(Okay, we’ve known about the bazooka for awhile, but this is next level).

See, that’s her munching on my shoulder. Now just insert my nipple. Or don’t, that could be damaging.