Well...at least in the top two. Here's Presley at 7 1/2 months.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
First Trip to the Dentist
Reagan had her first visit to the dentist yesterday. We chose a pediatric dentist that was recommended by our pediatrician. I thought since it was her first visit that I would be going back to the exam area with her. But when the hygenist called her name, I asked if I should go and she said it was up to us. I asked Reagan if she needed me, but she chose to go solo. About twenty minutes or so later, the hygenist called me back and said she was all done. Reagan was sitting happily in the chair. She had stickers on her shirt and was holding a balloon puppy and a bag full of products--toothbrush, paste, floss, etc. She also got a T-shirt that says, "No Cavity Club" on it.
I met Dr. Hendricks and she seemed very upbeat and great with kids, as did all the other staff members. She said Reagan's teeth looked great! She did ask if Reagan was a thumb-sucker, as she could detect it in her bite. She wasn't terribly concerned but said it would be a good idea to curb that habit in the next six months. They even sell the yucky nail polish there in the office when we're ready to try it.
It must have been a good experince for Reagan, since she has started brushing her teeth multiples times each day now.
I met Dr. Hendricks and she seemed very upbeat and great with kids, as did all the other staff members. She said Reagan's teeth looked great! She did ask if Reagan was a thumb-sucker, as she could detect it in her bite. She wasn't terribly concerned but said it would be a good idea to curb that habit in the next six months. They even sell the yucky nail polish there in the office when we're ready to try it.
It must have been a good experince for Reagan, since she has started brushing her teeth multiples times each day now.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Birthday Countdown
Only about six months left to plan the best birthday parties ever! Better get started.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Two Roads Diverged...
Remember that poem by Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken? "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both and be one traveler, long I stood and looked down one as far as I could to where it bent in the undergrowth..." Okay, so that was from memory, so don't sue me if I don't have all the puctuation correct. The point of the poem is that the traveler takes the road that looks the least worn--the uncommon path--and it makes an amazing difference in his life.
I've been thinking a lot lately about the paths we each take. I recently discovered some bizarre twists that took place in the lives of some of my college acquaintences. These discoveries were the result of some random web searches. Some of these people have become quite successful, but it's a strange, twisted success that I can't really go into. (I went to a conservative Christian college, remember? They are NOT living conservative lives!) Others have achieved only moderate success, and in the process have abandoned who they once were--one of them very literally: he changed his name!
I wonder what old acquaintences would think of me today? Would they think it's kinda cool that I'm a writer and that my words are now in print for all to see? Or would they find it disappointing that someone with a degree in vocal performance who lives in Music City isn't doing anything more with that opportunity than singing with the praise team on Sunday mornings? (Note: I'm not dissing the praise team. Singing for the "audience of One" is more important than any other performance.)
I struggle with my mission...my vision...my life's calling. I love being a mother more than anything, and I see that as my first priority, but I wonder if I'm doing enough with my life. I seem to always take the "safe" road--the one that offers financial security and a dental plan. I have so many interests that sometimes it's hard for me to define my passions. I tend to be a dabbler--do one thing for a while and then move on to the next. (Of course with the two girls, I don't seem to have the time or energy to do much dabbling.)
I've never worried about having a job. I know there are dozens of things I can do, and even do well. But what do I want to do? What was I meant to do? It still eludes me, and I stay on the safe path.
But I haven't given up the search. Someday I'll find the uncommon path that has my name on it. Just wait.
I've been thinking a lot lately about the paths we each take. I recently discovered some bizarre twists that took place in the lives of some of my college acquaintences. These discoveries were the result of some random web searches. Some of these people have become quite successful, but it's a strange, twisted success that I can't really go into. (I went to a conservative Christian college, remember? They are NOT living conservative lives!) Others have achieved only moderate success, and in the process have abandoned who they once were--one of them very literally: he changed his name!
I wonder what old acquaintences would think of me today? Would they think it's kinda cool that I'm a writer and that my words are now in print for all to see? Or would they find it disappointing that someone with a degree in vocal performance who lives in Music City isn't doing anything more with that opportunity than singing with the praise team on Sunday mornings? (Note: I'm not dissing the praise team. Singing for the "audience of One" is more important than any other performance.)
I struggle with my mission...my vision...my life's calling. I love being a mother more than anything, and I see that as my first priority, but I wonder if I'm doing enough with my life. I seem to always take the "safe" road--the one that offers financial security and a dental plan. I have so many interests that sometimes it's hard for me to define my passions. I tend to be a dabbler--do one thing for a while and then move on to the next. (Of course with the two girls, I don't seem to have the time or energy to do much dabbling.)
I've never worried about having a job. I know there are dozens of things I can do, and even do well. But what do I want to do? What was I meant to do? It still eludes me, and I stay on the safe path.
But I haven't given up the search. Someday I'll find the uncommon path that has my name on it. Just wait.
Sweet Big Sister
Reagan is really becoming the sweet big sister we knew she could be. Now that she realizes that Presley is indeed staying and we're not replacing her with the baby chicken Reagan requested, I think the big sister instinct is finally kicking in. Reagan wants to hold Presley and often walks past and pats her baby sister's head. She also enjoys getting in Presley's face and letting baby sister indulge in her favorite pasttime: pulling hair.
Of course, warming up to her baby sister hasn't stopped Reagan from requesting other diversions. So far she wants the aforementioned baby chicken, a real Mackey dog, and a pig just like Wilbur. Explanation on the Mackey dog: We once owned a Sheltie named Mackey that we had to give to another home when he became aggressive when Reagan was a baby. We bought her a stuffed version so that she would always remember him. The pig reference is probably in response to our recent viewing of Charlotte's Web. Not sure where the idea for the baby chicken came from.
Of course, warming up to her baby sister hasn't stopped Reagan from requesting other diversions. So far she wants the aforementioned baby chicken, a real Mackey dog, and a pig just like Wilbur. Explanation on the Mackey dog: We once owned a Sheltie named Mackey that we had to give to another home when he became aggressive when Reagan was a baby. We bought her a stuffed version so that she would always remember him. The pig reference is probably in response to our recent viewing of Charlotte's Web. Not sure where the idea for the baby chicken came from.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Seriously, Enough
So we went back to the pediatrician on Monday with both girls. Presley had been running a fever since late Saturday night, and Reagan started running one Monday morning. It turns out that Presley STILL has an ear infection, so she's on another round of antibiotics.
Reagan seemed fine by the time we got to the doctor, and her fever was gone. He said she probably just had a little virus. On Tuesday morning, she threw up a few times, so I called the doctor (because it was green, and that's on the list for "call the doctor"). They said to keep a watch on her--see if her fever comes back and/or she vomits enough to get dehydrated. By 10 AM, she was already feeling pretty well and asked if she could go to dance class (sadly, it had already started).
We're on our way to preschool after a much-too-long-for-Mama's-taste Christmas break. Reagan's "boyfriend" Curry is with us. We'll be dropping him off on Wednesdays, since his Mom has to leave for work before drop-off time. Reagan, of course, loves playing hostess to her best little friend.
Reagan seemed fine by the time we got to the doctor, and her fever was gone. He said she probably just had a little virus. On Tuesday morning, she threw up a few times, so I called the doctor (because it was green, and that's on the list for "call the doctor"). They said to keep a watch on her--see if her fever comes back and/or she vomits enough to get dehydrated. By 10 AM, she was already feeling pretty well and asked if she could go to dance class (sadly, it had already started).
We're on our way to preschool after a much-too-long-for-Mama's-taste Christmas break. Reagan's "boyfriend" Curry is with us. We'll be dropping him off on Wednesdays, since his Mom has to leave for work before drop-off time. Reagan, of course, loves playing hostess to her best little friend.
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