The wearing of the pants is still a big problem in the morning for Miss Sweet Cheeks. She really wanted to go shirtless on Sunday. And did so for 3 hours until the angels above encouraged her to wear clothes. It was only 2 degrees outside, or something. But her flat-out defiance when it comes to the pants makes my morning start off slightly more stressful than I would prefer. To clothe her, there is some kind of light body slam that I do to ensure that I don't A) get scissor kicked in the face B) allow baby to roll onto the floor C) allow baby to turn upside down and grab the boogie wipes and D) get scissor kicked in the face. I feel like me getting kicked in the face seems the most important twist in this scenario. Of course she ripped my cornea out of my eye socket and removed my earring from my ear with one swift slap on the head this past weekend. Almost needed an ear, nose and throat specialist. She's a dangerous one. Must have learned from her cocker sister who used to gnaw her nylabones into shanks. Like she lived in a prison. Thanks Gracie.
Anyway, she said thank you the other night. And then she said no when I told her to do something. In addition to laughing at us when we ask her to move away from the TV receiver. This is going to be a fun parenting journey if we are already getting backchat in ways other than words.
Kid has an Elf on the Shelf, but I am not sure if she's ready for it. She is still trying to locate her belly button and gets the most excitement in life out of the dog's toy and organic milk.
Emma also now has 12 teeth and is working on some molars. Could be why Miss Crabby Pants has come for a visit. I'm going to kick her to the curb real soon with some Evan Williams Egg Nog. "Emma, sweetheart, it's just like your milks you love so much. Trust Mommy." What a big girl, she's handling the breakage of her mouth skin as best as possible I am sure.
Emma spent the night at her Grandmommy's so David and I could go to a birthday party. There were awkward moments at the birthday party which led me to act like I was in 8th grade cotillion class and slurp wine like it was the vessel of life. After all the pomp and circumstance, we returned back to where we last left Emma and found her asleep with the hiccups. She didn't move, but kept hiccuping. Weird. Oh well, must have had too much milk. Drunk baby. We made our way home, David ate noodles and I went to bed. Party all night til the break of dawn.
Cheeks had a bang up morning after sleeping late (yea Em) and was on her A-game when I called to check in. Apparently she had rendered all of the electronics on the first floor useless by hitting a switch underneath the tv armoire. Only took about 20 minutes for the tv to reload itself. I heard "What did you do Emma???" on the phone and I almost hung up to absolve myself of any blame. And if that wasn't enough, she then took it upon herself to rearrange the nativity scene. The manger will never be the same. Baby Jesus escaped unharmed, but the shepherd broke his back in a few places. Nothing a little super glue to bring meaning to the holy night. She also ripped the David and Goliath page in her Bible Stories book she reads before bed. Oh dear.
I have no idea if she had trouble grasping the idea of pants again this morning, but hey, not my problem.
Donald and Danielle announced at Thanksgiving that they were having a baby in May. Well I'm not exactly sure why, but I started crying. Get it together Clara. Such a sap. But we are all excited and can't wait to find out what it is. Obviously a baby, but they do the find-out ultrasound after Christmas. And then we have to wait a whole dang week to find out with a cake party they're throwing. David wanted to be the one that found out and made the cake. Hilarious! I'm somewhat sad for Emma though, cause she's just been the apple or orange of everyone's eye. And now they are focused on a new fruit. Sweet Cheeks will make them remember. So I probably shan't be concerned. I kinda hope they have a girl, so that they can
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