Today, you have achieved a milestone that I naively did not anticipate. The sad, trembling, little pouty lip. The puppy dog face.
The only time your teeth become an issue during nursing is when you're teething. I'm nursing you down for a nap, even still as I write this, and a few minutes ago, you bit me. It hurt. I cried "Ouch! Take it nice!" ("Take it nice" is what I say to you prior to latching you on while you're teething, and it normally works well to remind you to latch on properly and not lead with your teeth.) You glanced up at me as you continued to nurse. You bit me again. Again, I cried out "Ouch!", but this time I slipped my finger between my breast and your mouth to break your latch.
What happened next was one of the most heartbreaking moments in my experience as a mother thus far. You poked out your little bottom lip into a pouty frown, it started to quiver, and your eyes offered a genuine apology as you started to whimper. Not one of the cries I've grown accustomed to, just a meek little whimper. I hugged you close and explained that I was sorry to take away the boobah, but that you had hurt mama, before kissing your forehead and positioning you to finish nursing. You took it nice.
You've revealed your puppy-dog face, and it' a doozy. I can't wait until you have the opportunity to use it on your father. I can already see the puddle he'll melt into when he finds himself on the receiving end of it.