The Power of Christ compels thee!

We've emerged from the dark days of teething once again, and things are beginning to return to normal. Punky is now sporting her two "vampire fangs" (her upper lateral incisors for those of you too high and mighty to just call them fangs) with tear-drawing effectiveness, and is starting to warm up again to things once normal -- eating solids, happily playing with toys without writhing in agony, and sleeping through the night without waking up FIVE FUCKING TIMES. The dragon is gone, village people, it's okay to peep out of your hovels again... at least until the next round.

(As a sidenote, I don't understand why so many people frown upon the notion of using rum while the baby's teething. I drank damn near a handle of it during those two weeks and I felt just fine fine fine.)

One thing I noticed, though, is how bipolar Punk is during teething. She would alternate back and forth -- just about every two minutes -- between writhing, screaming in agony and thrashing and cooing, cuddling and snuggling. It was like the damn Exorcist. One minute: "FUCK YOUR MOTHER!!!" and the next? "Dami, why you do this to me Dami?"

A and I are very anti-religion and we even thought about calling a priest. Because after two weeks of angry teething possessed baby, and going through Baby Orajel, chew toys, wet wash rags, ice pops, Tylenol, warm baths, and did I mention all the alcohol?, to no avail, you're willing to try anything. I needed an old priest, and a young one. Let's go, padres, we got a teething baby to get under control, and mommy's offering blow jobs to get us there.

But we have survived, though I keep looking at teeth charts and refusing to believe we get to do this another...I don't even know? How many teeth are there? Like 30?... times. Punky looks dashing with her fangs (as we sing "Mommy's Little Monster" by Social Distortion to her ad nauseum), while Mommy has just realized she looks like a sallow, bloated man. It's amazing how once you start chasing a mobile infant around, you fail to actually look at yourself in the mirror. So I'm working on remedying that with a fresh dye job (accomplished yesterday) and a new hair cut (accomplishing tomorrow). And maybe I'll stop relying on multiple cases of Mountain Dew (no joke, ya'll, I go through a 24-pack a week) and watch my beautiful ivory complexion come back.

Who knows. I might just go crazy and get a 99 cent at-home facial kit from the Wal-Mart. Watch out for me, I'm gonna blow your mind!