I’ve never been scared of teeth before. They chew food for me, they’re super handy. In general, I find them enjoyable….until my kid grew a set. He didn’t grow teeth though, I’m pretty certain of it. He grew razor sharp shark teeth that are designed to give me anxiety…this is a joke right? Right?!

My sweet gummy mouthed kid has been replaced with the shark tooth biting piranha baby. LAME. We’ve tried all of the tricks. Baby bites? Put baby on the floor. Baby chomps? Take baby off and turn him away. Baby clenches? Don’t scream you’ll scare him…oops.

Needless to say….this has to stop. Initially, I was all “this is awful child, you don’t respect me, we are done”…obviously a 6 month old is totes into the respect thing. Then I was all…”but you’re still a baby, I love you, mamas sorry for shouting in your face”…and then he smiled and life was good. Then he did it again….and back to the unloving place we went.

I’m fighting the inner battle of wanting to keep feeding Luke the golden goods against the “im not a chew toy” thoughts….this parent ish just got real.

I know this is probably a phase and we’ll figure it out, but for now…the happy dances for successful non-biting sessions will continue alongside the awful, anxiety attacks of another potential piranha attack…gulp.

Mom badge awarded: I survived a baby shark attack and didn’t throw my child on the ground. (is that awful….whatever).