Brusha, Brusha, Brusha

Let's forget the part where I shared my joy with Paul, only to have him burst my bubble.

"Oh, you didn't hear me last night? Yeah he let me brush his teeth too."

Well, let's remember long enough to hear "I'm sorry" in the form of something shiny.

So for the past month or so we've been abusing Cameron. At least you would think so by the sound of his cries when his toothbrush is in view.

We started off with a finger brush.

I was warned that I was asking for trouble. Thankfully we use to clean Cameron's mouth w/a washcloth & despite his plea for mercy, he never bit down.

Then we moved on to an actual toothbrush. If we thought the finger brush ticked him off, we were in for a real treat this time.

He would belt out huge sobs & would shake his head. I have to admit, at times we even had to hold his face in place. It was so sad to watch but the moment we were done, so were the crocodile tears.

We tried to sing.

FAIL.

We tried to brush our teeth with him.

FAIL.

We tried to let him hold the brush.

And watch it plummet into the dirty bath water instead of cleaning his mouth.

*sigh*

But we kept with it.

Then finally, he just let us.

I don't know if he realized that the flavor of toothpaste was actually pretty good or was just sick of screaming just as much as we were of listening. But for whatever reason, my bebe knocked off another milestone & took one step closer to being a big boy.





By the time I got the camera he was pretty much over having his tongue brushed. But you get the idea. :)