My baby cut a tooth yesterday. It wasn’t there two days ago. It wasn’t there when he woke  up. But after lunch, there was a teeny tiny knife poking my finger  when I rubbed his gums. I am feeling mournful, as it kind of means he isn’t a little baby anymore (though at 17 lbs, he hasn’t been little for a while). I don’t know how many more I’ll have, but I think we are more than half done. And now I am more than half done with baby’s babyhood.

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