It’s been a rough several weeks, my friends. See the title of this post? No kidding. I’m not exaggerating.

Seriously.

My sweet little angel baby (otherwise known as Wilhemina the Conqueror) decided to start teething at 3 months old. I’d write a quirky little ditty about it, right now and for all y’all to read and enjoy, but I’m not enjoying it. Not one bit.

I don’t recall teething being this gawd-awful with my 4 year-old. I think memory loss is the Lord’s sneaky little way to get us to have more kids.

A little 12 lb baby has done me in. Kicked my fanny. Made me want to cry to my granny. Got me beggin’ for a nanny.

Okay, I’ll stop.

You know I love my baby. I’d eat her up with syrup if I could.

Especially when she’s teething.

William the Conqueror
(See. He doesn’t look like such a baddie. But he was.)