Breaking News!!!

After months of teething, Sophia Diane, the Toothless Wonder, is now the ONE-Tooth Wonder! Yeseterday at the ripe old age of 14 months and 10 days she cut her first tooth! It’s her top-right, front tooth. She is going to look like a real Hillbilly Baby when it comes all the way in. I think I am just going to dress her in a diaper and a Larry the Cable Guy t-shirt from now on and buy her a Homer Simpson doll so she can maintain her Hill-Jack image. Here is a highlight of the “dodging-mommy’s-efforts-to-photograph-my-tooth” photo shoot:

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And an extreme close-up:

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And what she is going to wear until I get her Larry the Cable Guy t-shirt:

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She insisted on the socks and bow! What a diva! Don’t fight your inner hillbilly Sophie! It’s in your genes (thanks to my & Emily’s ancestors!)

Congratulations my crazy girl on your first tooth! My breasts will now commence quaking in fear since thou shalt ne’er be weaned. But the rest of me is very glad to know that you won’t have to have baby dentures.

Love, Mommy

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Seriously, Kid, I’m Not ALL that Great!

Somebody pass the Hershey bars, for I am in need of some medicinal chocolate for my NERVES. Sophia Diane has decided that this month should mark the beginning of her “separation anxiety” phase. Now she’s always been a “Mommy’s girl” and freaked out on different babysitters a couple of times when she was really little (like when she was 4 months old and Bobby and I tried to go to the symphony for our 7th anniversay and made it through a whole 20 minutes!), but she’s been over that for awhile now.

Until a couple of weeks ago. Now she’s back in full-on “I-must-have-Mommy” mode. She’s flipped out in the church nursery the past two times and they’ve flashed her identification number up on the screen before even the second worship song was complete. Saturday night we went out with some friends (we do this every three weeks) and she cried the WHOLE two-and-a-half hours we were gone. Lucy, one of our trusted babysitters, even gave her a bath (Sophie LOVES the bath) to try and cheer her up and it only worked for about two minutes before she was back to crying. When we got home I nursed her and she sat up after she was finished and chattered and chirped like she was hot stuff. She was happy as a clam, as if the previous hours of wailing and gnashing of gums had never happened.

Friday she fussed at my mom – her beloved Grandma – the whole time when I went shopping for a couple of hours.

Today she wailed like the chief mourner when I put my coat on to go to Bible Study.

Ugh. She cannot do this to me! I have to be able to go out sometimes without torturing babysitters or grandparents!

Seriously, Soph, I am not all that and a bag of chips Gerber puffs. Please crazy girl, give some other folks a chance!

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The Milk Maid & the Dairy Queen

A couple of days ago my mom called me with a good joke. “I saw Elisabeth Hasselbeck on the View with her new baby,” she said, “And she’s calling herself the Dairy Queen because it wants to nurse day & night, night & day. So, I thought you should call yourself that, too.” With that she gave a little “tee-hee” in reference to Sophie’s ardent love of nursing. Oy. Unlike the Dairy Queen down the street from my house, THIS DQ is open all winter at least. Yikes!

Saturday Sophie earned herself the title of Milk Maid to my DQ. She was eating an afternoon snack in her high chair (and I was – what else? – filing coupons!) and I’d given her a straw cup of milk. She will usually drink an ounce or two and then do what she does when she’s done with anything – unceremoniously throw it on the floor. It’s one of her signature moves. When she’s done with a toy, a food, whatever, she just chucks it and moves on. Well, this time when I heard the cup hit the floor, I noticed it wasn’t as full as usual. As a matter of fact, she’d downed almost all the milk! My heart skipped a beat in excitement! Could it be that she was moving toward loving the cup more than the DQ? I decided to see what she’d do if I got her some more. So I gave her another 4 oz. cup of milk, and went back to filing my coupons. Then I went into the kitchen and unloaded the dishwasher. While I was in there I heard the cup hit the floor again, and when I went to check on her that cup was DRY. She had drained the whole thing!! Just then the phone rang. It was Bobby, checking in (he was rockin’ out with his music buddies. Jam session. Very cool). I excitedly told him about Sophie’s milk consumption. He couldn’t believe it either! When I got off the phone, Sophie was making her “all done” sign of raising her hands in the hair and then clapping for herself. So I went to get her out of her chair. She was wearing a little pink velour hoodie (thanks Bethany!) over her overalls. When I took her high chair tray off, I noticed that the hoodie was soaked. When I undid her buckles, I noticed her torso was soaked. When I picked her up, I noticed her BUTT was soaked.

She’d drank and then SPIT OUT at least that entire second cup all over herself!!!!!!!!! And probably half of the first.

Geez kid! Her super-toothless grin showcased her pride. What a booger.

So the Dairy Queen stripped the Milk Maid down to her diaper and took her upstairs and tossed gently placed her in the bathtub for a good soak.

I guess I’ll be retaining my title for awhile. I wish it came with a tiara!! Or at least a Brownie Batter Blizzard!!!

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