Monthly Archive for September, 2007

Next Thing You Know We’ll Be Buying A Training Bra

Published
by
Courtney
on September 24, 2007
in Baby Nora
. 1 Comment

Dear Nora,

Your first tooth broke the swollen surface of your gums on the 13th of September…I’m just now getting around to post about it because…well…we’ve been busy. I know it’s no excuse, but really…you don’t even know what today’s date is…all you know is that when you cry you get fed, changed, or played with.

Your Great-Grandma Crum discovered your tooth because you were biting on her finger. She says that you bit onto her finger…that she didn’t put her dirty finger in your mouth. But I ask you this. Who’s the adult?

You were a little crabby in the days leading up to your big breakthrough, but nothing too awful. Nothing like the horror stories I’ve heard from other moms. You still slept through the night. You still ate fine. You were a little congested and grouchy. Not bad at all. Of course, I realize that this means that I’m in for it somewhere…somehow…further down the road. I think with your Daddy’s patience we’ll make it through!

You’ve been making some pretty funny faces since this new toothy development. It must feel strange to have something sharp and hard to run your tongue over…I can tell because you do it all the time. Sometimes you suck in your bottom lip as if you’re trying to figure out exactly what is going on in your mouth. You’re also starting to discover that if you bite down on your spoon it gets stuck. You seem to think this is funny. It’s okay…I think you’re pretty silly, too!

Congratulations on the tooth, Baby Girl! Now slow down with all this growing up business. You’ve got time. I’ve got time.

Love,
Mommy

But Mahhhhhhmmmm…

Published
by
Courtney
on September 10, 2007
in Musings
. 1 Comment

Why is it that your hair co-operates and does exactly what you want it to…on the day you’re getting it cut because you just. can’t. stand. it. anymore. It’s like a child that doesn’t want to get beat…all whiny…like, “Don’t cut me. Pleeeease dooooooon’t. I’m beeeeeeeing-haaaaaaave. I promise I won’t act up again.” So you cancel the appointment, because, who needs a haircut with such perfectly performing hair? And then. The next day it does NOTHING that you want it to, and looks like crap. All thumbing it’s nose at you…like, “Ha. You totally fell for that line of bull.” Just like a kid. Well, you know what? I’m not falling for that #### again. You and me, hair. Twelve o’ clock, noon. You’re getting cut. I don’t care how good you promise to be tomorrow.