My day made

And so my son wakes this morning... and over a peanut butter toast proclaims "Mmm, mommy, your teeth are pretty!"

My mommy tummy? or that cellulite whereever? (not mentioning where) or my spotted chin? or whatever whatever? Who cares?

My day's made. He's my prince.

My Belle's teething. I hope. Her temperatures been soaring but I'm not too pessimistic. This one's a toughie. A real toughie. Please let my baby get thru this ok.