Good lord, at 4 months this time???
We are pretty sure we felt a little toothlet edging through Ivy's top gums tonight. This would be consistent with her generally rangy and unpredictable mood all day. Not to mention the copious amounts of drool pouring out of her mouth. And the fact that she has woken crying 4 times since we put her down to sleep 2 hours ago. Sigh.
Teething. Let the good times roll.
We have vowed to take copious numbers of photos of her over the next few days to capture the last moments of her gummy, wide-mouthed smile before the tooth starts to show. Luckily (somehow, impossibly) it is time already for some weekly pics tomorrow. Where does the time go???
In other news, the Jack-man is officially a preschooler. He and daddy headed off, backpack in tow, for his first day at St. Paul's this morning. Not a real day, just the "meet the teacher, get used to the room" sort of a day, and he didn't even unpack his bag. But Nat reports that he had a great time, participated well in clean up and even reluctantly painted a bit at craft time. I can't believe this is my baby, this kid who is heading full tilt into his school career. Nat says he was confident and happy, no concerns. And Jack told me excitedly that he wanted to go to preschool every day.
The big boy of the house also is well on the way to being potty trained, I do believe. I never thought this day would come, you know? But here we have a kid with no diapers in his room anymore. A few pullups for night and naps and a whole drawer of underwear (might I add not a duplicate print among them? Shocking variety of cute prints for boys undies...). He is staying dry almost all the time, and has even had a few breakthroughs with pooping in the potty over the past few days. He's such a stinking perfectionist. I think that he really has been afraid to move forward with each step of this process until he's known that he can do it successfully. And he really gets very, very upset when he has an accident.
I don't though. Because just saying that he has accidents means that he is actually potty training. And I am just so happy we've gotten here and I won't be wiping his poopy bottom for the rest of eternity. Or even the rest of the year. I feel like we've done it, we've made it out of babyhood for real. We've gone and created a kid.
And, a pretty bright kid to boot. He's always loved numbers, as you know. Well, he can now count to 13 on his own and can count up to 5 fingers or items with excellent 1-1 correspondence. Plus he can recognize the quantity of 5 at a glance. And just this evening, when he earned 6 M&Ms (the grandest total yet) for both peeing AND pooping in the potty-- he was most excited to learn how to make 6 on his fingers. He tried to count his M&M's and put the number on his fingers, then held up his 5 and looked at me and asked "How do I make 6?" And I showed him and he showed me back and counted those 6 fingers right back to me. I was so proud of him. These might not seem like impressive skills to you but according to the scope and sequence of developing number sense in the right way for future mathematical success-- well, he's coming along well. Not reading at age 2 or anything, but I think he'll be doing some basic adding and subtracting at 3...
Better watch out or he'll be bored in kindergarten...
Finally, related news for those of you who are concerned with events outside of our offspring's latest developments:
Nat and I have joined the JCC (Jewish Community Center) in an effort to get in shape and give Nat another opportunity to get the kids out and get time for himself during the day (they have a nice childcare facility complete with little old ladies who just love to snuggle Ivy). I have been going to a 6 am spinning class on my way to work 2-3 mornings a week. While it is actually physically painful to tear myself out of bed at 5am, it is worth it. I rather like the quiet, dark drive to the gym, complete with the two ladies, in reflective garb and hair nets, who walk in the road down South Woodland, every morning like clockwork. I like that feeling of being a part of a secret club, the secret morning people. I love the quiet of the lovely locker rooms, the relaxing shower and time to gt ready in front of a really nice mirror for a change. I love that by the time I get to work at 7:30am I've already had a great workout and can relax the rest of the day. Now, if I can just stick with it...
In the midst of our self improvement, however, two of our family members have gone a bit gimpy. Nat's been having issues with his knee and is all braced up and occasionally sporting a walking stick these days, and kneeling is problematic for him. Not the best situation with a baby and a potty training toddler. And poor Cor managed to do something pretty serious to her leg yesterday morning (during a most delightful trip to the park where she romped gleefully with some neighbor dogs), to the point where she hasn't put any weight on it for about 36 hours now. We are off to the vet with her tomorrow and really hoping she doesn't need surgery. Though I have reassured her that she is worth far more to me than the new iPod Touch I was thinking of getting, really. I do love the silly spaniel and it is heartbreaking to watch her hobble around. Doesn't really bother her and she's gotten much better on 3 legs over the course of the day. But still! My puppy, limping around like an old dog. When did this happen?
It is so sad that we all have to get old. Strange that the passage of time and "getting older" is greeted with anticipation and celebration for babies and toddlers-- note the very existence of this blog!-- but then with such dread and trepidation once we reach the coveted state of adulthood. We spent the first half of our lives striving to grow up and the rest wishing we could stop time or even go back...
In the meantime, off to sleep. Busy day of capturing and recording and reveling in the growing-up of my children, tomorrow.
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