Teething
Olive went to a medical checkup today, and came home with startling news: per the WHO charts, she's in the 71
We knew that she was growing, of course, but I figured that every parent of a baby feels like they're growing ridiculously quickly. Then again, in retrospect, it was a fairly significant clue when she started growing out of clothing which, according to its tags, had more than a month remaining.
Her growth isn't just physical, of course; she gets a little more clever, a little more dexterous2, every day. Under the frame with the hanging rings, she grabs the toys and rattles them now instead of just batting them away. She's eager to show off her physical strength, and can balance standing entirely on her own for a second or two before needing to be caught.
Unfortunately, she's also starting to show classic signs of teething: irritability, constant drooling, lots of interest in gnawing on her hands, occasional cries of real pain with no visible cause. She sleeps less easily these days, and this entire week has woken us long before our alarms. If my writing seems a little less smooth these days, it's because I can't actually remember the last time I got five hours of sleep in a row3.
It's not an easy phase for any of us; I'm trying to keep in mind that it will eventually prove to have been temporary. In the meantime, we have a variety of chilled gnawing toys for her, and topical numbing paste for when she's the most upset.
The funny thing is that despite the issues, she's really starting to grow on me. It's not just the smiles; it's the fact that she's starting to understand the idea that I'm playing and clowning around specifically for her. It's that she will calm down and doze off at 7 am after binge-watching ERB4 with me. The more I can attribute her actions to intention, the easier it is to overlook the times when they're not exactly convenient.
She's my little5 girl, and I couldn't be more pleased with her.
We did ask the doctor, and she both reassured us that she is in fact healthy and reiterated that you can't feed a baby too much breastmilk.
Though as she's showing some preference for her left hand, I suppose I should call her sinister?
I'm actually getting less sleep now than I did at the worst points in the Army; I wouldn't have thought that possible back then. I suppose I should consider it training.
Technically I started watching those to drown her out because I couldn't calm her down and it was some ungodly hour of the morning and I'd taken her out of the room so that at least Christina could get some rest. I hadn't expected it to work, but it was the most adorable thing when it did.
(but huge for her age)