Speaking of newborns, I had the privilege yesterday of holding my friend Amber's three day old son, Charlie. Charlie clucked and burped and stretched and passed out in my arms. What a neat feeling it is! I was thinking to myself : "I still got it!" It was encouraging to me after the past few days of tears and misunderstanding between Bradie and I.
She is struggling right now...her words are coming along like gangbusters, but that little mind and its big wants are still several paces ahead. Add a cold and some supsicious hand-in-mouth activity and you have the perfect store. Yesterday I put on the Veggie Tales for her and when I checked on her she had her index finger and thumb in a whistle-like postion. Except they were resting on what appeared to be the last spaces behind her molars...her two year molars! I don't feel anything yet, but I can't help but thinking those suckers are just moving around and getting set to rear their purely white heads.
So its gotta be the teeth right? What am I going to do in 10 years when she's all funky and hormonal? Teething's been my go-to excuse for her whole life so far. I will surely be at a loss then.
One hour left of round two (round one for Marcus!) of the BBC Pride and Prejudice. He is enjoying it so far. Its been fun to have someone enjoy/cringe with me at the antics of Mr. Collins. He's like Michael Scott during the summer hiatus :) Seriously though, I am inspired to write an essay or poem about how they have Mr. Darcy always getting wet somehow in the film. On the second viewing, I found his bath, his face washing and his full on swim in the pond highly symbolic...I will extrapolate no further on the subject and will leave those who care to expound to their own designs. May the thought of a soaking Mr. Darcy vex you in the kindest way.
Only one more hour and I promise I will move on with my life. Thanks for reading this randomly long and pictureless blog. I will post some pics when Marcus gets all the specs realigned on the rotary gerter.