Since I last posted, Matilda has not quite mastered the art of crawling but has certainly climbed up to brown belt with determination. She's mobile, it's just not that pretty. She's more Modern Dance than Ballet right now.
When not crawling, she sure enjoys standing. She can't stand unassisted yet and for proof of this, we have A Black Eye Brewing. She let go of the coffee table yesterday and clocked herself on the edge on the way down. This lead to much crying and limb flailing and then a few minutes later, a single drop of blood at the corner of her eye which led to ME crying and flailing. She's fine she's ok she doesn't have a concussion or any loss of sight and she doesn't need stitches. However, she does have a red swollen eye and I've got a plate full-up with guilt.
On the Guilt News, she's in daycare three days a week. Niclas drops her off and picks her up and until today, I hadn't called to check in on her because it was just Too Much and I'm emotional about car commercials these days never-mind my daughter in the hands of strangers.
Today I called and they said she was fine! Great! Having a good day! Playing with her friends! And I was all, she's not clingy and weepy? Because she's got a head cold something fierce and you have noticed the snot, I gather. No! She's great!
Then we arrived to pick her up a little early and she was in this pen
with 5 other kids and one care-taker. The care-taker was holding two weepy babies. Matilda stood next to her with the care-taker's shoulder in a Baby Death Grip CRYING HER EYES OUT. I jumped into the pen hurdling toys and hip-checking babies out of the way to get to my daughter OMG crying her eyes out red swollen and puffy and snotty with the head cold JESUS GOD THE GUILT.
Then the care-takers told me she'd refused a bottle three times and had lots of short cat-naps and has quite a cough on her. So! Off to the pediatrician's office! They close in 10 minutes! And bless our pediatrician's office for they saw us snap just like that.
She's fine she's ok she's not running a fever or lacking oxygen or harboring an ear infection. She's just miserable with a head cold. But weighs 15 pounds! And really is quite miserable.
She now hates having her face or hands wiped and squirms at the sight of the bulb syringe. She's decided that she hates, actually, the taste of Children's Cherry Tylenol. She wakes up with snot all over her forehead and eyelids and chin and hands and the soles of her feet, probably. Seeing as she hates lying on her back these days as well and thus hates the bath, the only way to clean her up is to strip down and get in the shower with her.
Things That Are After-Thoughts in the Face of Head Cold and Daycare but Probably Shouldn't Be:
She's got her first word. Itta. For Kitty. She says it every-time she sees the cat. She whips her head around or twists her body so it's horizontal with the floor to see the itta. ITTA ITTA ITTA. Five minutes after she squeezed a drop of blood out of the cut by her eye, she rotated her body around in my arms to see the itta walk by and yelled at her passing ass, "ITTA"!
Run for your life, itta.
She knows where her elephants are. If you ask her, she will look.
