oral

I express my love for things by putting them in my mouth.  I kiss my pets and gently nibble their ears with my teeth when they’re being cute. The best feeling in the world is coffee on the first sip when it splashes into my mouth and hits my tongue.  And I’ve tasted some of my bath products like the beads that are so shiny and plump and aromatic that I can’t keep my teeth off them.

So it probably comes as no surprise that I bite my baby. When he was little I could get his whole foot in my mouth.  When I first brought him home I would press his feet against my face to feel them curl up reflexively against my cheek, and then I would kiss and bite his blobby heels because he was so beautiful I couldn’t stand it.  The baby is not so much a baby anymore and his feet don’t fit in my mouth quite as neatly as they used to, but even if they did I wouldn’t put them there because he is ticklish and has a strong kick and I don’t want to be explaining to the dentist why I need new teeth.

The child is especially irresistible to me when he has just eaten a cinnamon apple breakfast bar.  He smells like everything that’s good in the world and I can’t help but kiss and bite his sticky cheeks and hands.  And there’s something about his head, even now, that is irresistible to my lips.  Every time I pick him up, it’s like there’s a magnet in his skull that pulls my lips to his fuzzy head, and I have to kiss him.  Even if I’m just getting him out of his carseat, as soon as his head is in range of my lips, I’ve got my mouth on him.  Which is why he always has a lip-shaped smudge of shiny pink lipgloss on his head.  Maybe it will be different when he grows hair.  And maybe I won’t want to bite his belly or his neck or his cheeks anymore when he loses the baby fat and his skin gets less soft and he turns into a sweaty, smelly little boy instead of a chubby, sweet-smelling baby.

In case you’re wondering, I also enjoy biting Eli, but I’ve had to stop because once I bit too hard and left a teeth shaped bruise on his arm. And he doesn’t go for that.

In other mouth news, Joey has started saying Dada.  This is huge progress, considering a few weeks ago all he wanted to say was mama.  Eli tried to practice with him every night, holding him up to his face so he would understand.

Eli: I’m Daddy
Joey: Mama
Eli: no, Daddy
Joey: Mama
Eli: Dada
Joey: MAMA
Eli: Daaaa-daaa
Joey: MAAA-MAAA
Eli: DADDY!
Joey: MAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAAAAA!

Eli is very patient, and he would let this go on for at least five minutes before giving up, putting Joey down and telling him, “Alright, go find your mama, mama’s boy.”  And then Joey would come to me and cling to my leg like a koala.

Then Eli decided to turn it into a game against me.  Any time there was something that we both didn’t want to do, he would let Joey decide.

Eli: Joey, who do you want to change your diaper?
Joey: Mama!
Eli: Joey, who do you want to give you a bath?
Joey: Mama!
Eli: Joey, who should take out the trash?
Joey: Mama!
Eli: Who should change the kitties litter?
Joey: Mama!
Eli: Who should go to the grocery store and get me a snack?
Joey: Mama!
Eli: Who should clean out the basement?
Joey: Mama!

Jaeme: Joey, who is your favorite?
Joey: Mama!

But it’s not like I have anything to be proud of--mama wasn’t his first word.  His first word was duck.