I realized today that Ramona is thirty-eight weeks old this week. And since I delivered her at thirty-eight weeks well . . .she's been out as long as she was in. Which is probably surreal only to me. But it is surreal all the same.
My gorgeous girl has not been her most charming the last couple of weeks. She is hitting a lot of milestones (she hasn't crawled again which her grandmother and father seem to think is pure laziness but I think she is kind of like I've done that) and learning a lot of stuff and trying to pop eighty-seven teeth all at once. I suppose that would wear anyone down and my girl is no exception.
She has already started to throw tantrums which are both alarming and hilarious. It seems that she inherited the worst of both of our tempers which means the toddler years are going to be interesting. I think it's mainly frustration but I see a lot of years of trying to calm her ass down while we try to teach her to get a grip on her emotions.
Until then we are white knuckling this stage. I think once the teeth that have caused her gums to swell up in knots pop through or she finally starts crawling or I don't know she pulls that stick out she will be just fine. In the meantime it is just waiting it out and being kind to one another.
She is spending Saturday night with my parents. What do you want to bet she will be a perfect angel?