twistin the night away

nubbin like handhold
withstands stunning feats of strength
sometimes it fights back

For a while there, the wee-er one grabbed her crotch as she nursed. My teeny Michael Jackson would hold on for dear life while she suckled her dinner. Over the past few weeks, though, she’s turned her attentions to another bathing suit area. Specifically, my nipples.

She’ll nurse on one side and give me the most excruciating titty twister on the other. Every now and then she’s rewarded with an arc of milk that shoots across the room or into her ear. I, on the other hand, am rewarded with bruised nipples and a flinchy reflex every time I see a pincer grip coming at me.

I try swatting her hand away. I try saying, "Ow! Mama’s nipples don’t turn like radio knobs!" but the darn kid just won’t listen.

Between this and the constant, simultaneous head butt/open mouth/biting maneuver she’s perfected, I look like I’ve been attacked by a school of nipple-loving, shoulder-chomping, forehead-bruising piranhas.

There’s also the floor show that comes with the titty-twisting and head-butting and shoulder-chomping. It goes something like this:

[pain is inflicted on mama]

[mama yells/groans/weeps] "Ow! No Bite! [or, "Ow! No radio knobs!" or "Ow! Head butts hurt mama!"

[wee-er one, squealing with glee] "Mama! Mamamamama!" [begins clapping hands] "Bye-bye! Byyyyyy-eeeeeee!" [claps some more]

[mama tries to be cheerful, unless it’s 3 am, then mama makes a grouchy noise] "Mama loves that you have two words now, yay! Two words! BUT YOU HAVE TO STOP BEATING ON ME. Deal?"

[wee-er one, waving backwards then clapping] Mama! Mamamamamam! Bye-bye! Byyyeeeee!

[mama has a resigned sound to her voice] Excellent. I’m so glad we have a deal.

[deal is then sealed with a titty-twister and/or biting head butt.]

[mama groans] "ooowwww…."

Aaaaaaaand scene.

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