Mouth Matters

Which came first, the molars or the big girl bed? Last night, round about 10pm, when our little dumpling still had not dropped off to sleep (as evidenced by her "hanging out" at the gate to her room) we started to wonder if something was up. She's drooling a lot, her head feels kind of hot, maybe she's getting some molars.

Well, one flashlight and several looks inside the mouth revealed not one, not two, but three, three big, chunky molars pushing and stretching their way through her tender baby gums. Poor little peach! Good grief! It's not bothering her too terribly much, but it can't be comfortable. How long does this last? Molars aren't baby teeth, too, are they? And when, oh when, will we all get the sleep we need? Zzzzzzzzzz.

Baby baby baby

Just found out, via Facebook no less, that a good friend with a toddler younger than H is expecting her second. Super exciting. Also produces a pang of "I want that" if I'm to be completely honest. While I know, really know, that we're not ready to welcome another life into our family, I also really hope we will be ready (or, you know, as ready as we can be. You're never actually ready, of course. Never have enough money, a big enough place, enough extra energy, etc.) at some point. And I hope when that point comes, that I'll be ready and able physically. It certainly wouldn't be the worst thing if H was an only child, far from it, but... at that's not what I'm hoping for.

In other baby news, H has taken to balling up her "snuggle blanket" and tenderly holding the "little, tiny baby" that is within. It's just adorable. It's also the evolution of our popular "little, tiny baby" game wherein David or I pick up H, cradle her on her side (her feet extend way out. She is a tall girl.) and say something along the lines of "oh, little tiny baby. What a little tiny baby this is. She doesn't know how to do big girl things. She just sleeps and eats. She's so little and tiny." She loves it and requests it often. As our friend Philip remarked, "she's two and she's already nostalgic." I think it's also one of the few ways this active powerhouse of a toddler can take a rest, get a little cuddle, and feel secure and safe as she pauses for a moment. That's my theory anyway. What do you think?

Time Flies.. and Soup Follows

My goodness... I certainly didn't intend to let so much time pass between blog posts. But here we are and hopefully that's what matters. Somehow time keeps moving and I keep running to catch up. Yesterday H marched around the apartment shouting, "President Obama, President Obama" -- very cute.

This morning David, my husband, and I were talking about how neither of us appreciates the term "terrible twos." It's so negative, so all encompassing.And H is so not terrible, in fact she's really wonderful and we keep sight of that as she violently throws nearly everything she can get her hands on. 

She clears tables, she empties bins full of Legos. The other day? She threw a bowl full of chicken noodle soup. Yeah. I think that bears repeating with bold for emphasis: She threw a bowl full of chicken noodle soup.

So, while we both cringe at the "terrible twos" moniker, it's not a totally alien concept where it came from. Our punishment system consists of "time outs" usually in the high chair. Throwing food is the major offender (though pulling poor our cat George's poor tail is also on the list). Am I crazy to think she has the self-possession to choose not to throw food? I really think she does. Of course, the time outs have become such a topic of conversation ("no time outs," "want a time out", etc.) that it's possible they've become an encourager rather than a deterrent. What do you think? How do you deal with this particular challenge? I would truly love to hear!