Cloudy with a Chance of Miserable

I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the screaming.





















Abby is having somewhat of a difficult time adjusting to the fiery surge that are her upper gums.
















I'm not going to pretend it hurts her more than it hurts me.













If only she had more in her verbal repertoire than a migraine provoking screechety shriekety succession of cries.

I'll write more after I teach her how to throw plates or drown her pain in a bowl of peanut butter and chocolate chips.