You know what they say about a watched pot, and how it never boils? The same rule seems to apply to Michael's mouth, regarding his teeth. For weeks, I was checking it, to see if that upper-left lateral incisor finally decided to make an appearance, but it was always the same: just a sliver of white beneath the gumline.
Then, the past week happened, and in the midst of all of the activity, Michael finally got his eighth tooth. Though it has not yet completely emerged, (nor has its counterpart, for that matter), it's well-established enough now that I think we can officially count four teeth along the top, and four along the bottom. Not that he wasn't amazingly handsome before, but now he has a nice, even smile.
I also noticed, while editing these photos, that you can see a bit of white towards the back of his lower gumline. I suspect that may be the faintest indication of a one-year molar, which promises to wreak havoc on our lives in the very near future (if it hasn't begun to already).
You can kind of see it in these, too.
This last one? Well, this one is my favorite. I only wish I'd gotten the focus right, though I was pleased at how much I was able to improve upon it by sharpening the image in editing.
Though he's still not back to 100% health, it's so nice to be getting some smiles out of him again, and watching him regain a rather impressive appetite.
Abby is looking to be on the mend, as well, and started off the morning with equal parts mischief and of cuteness.
Tom and I were jarred from sleep by her piercing cries, to discover that she'd somehow caught her foot in the crib slats. Once Tom had her freed, she asked him, "Where's Nana?" to which he replied, "Nana had to go home, Sweetie."
"Nana went home," Abby reiterated, "Because Papá was crying."
This afternoon, not to be outdone by her brother on the Milestone front, Abby made her way completely out of the crib for the first time. She's climbed out before, but only up to the attached changing table, where she would sit happily until retrieved.
Today, however, she not only managed to get down onto the floor, she was in the process of figuring out the doorknob when Tom came upstairs to investigate.
It's looking like we need to install a gate at the top of the attic stairs, like, yesterday.
And yeah, maybe move her to a toddler bed, too (it's not like we don't have one around).
Is there a milestone ahead in my near future? One that allows me to take in all of these changes with grace, rather than abject fear?
Here's hoping, anyway...
Since my original posting, I've been informed that I must make two updates:
1. Abby's first venture out of the crib actually happened yesterday, on Nana's watch. She was wandering around the bedroom when Nana went upstairs to get her, but after a diaper change and some lively conversation with Abby, Nana forgot to mention it.
2. There is a bit of a back story to Abby's comment about Papá. Tom tells me that as Nana was preparing to leave, she told Abby, "I have to go home- Papá will miss me." It seems Abby then surmised that poor Papá must be back in New Jersey, crying over his missing Nana. My sweet little girl.