Be careful what thoughts you think

I caught myself the other day thinking about how easy Hannah was getting. She is continuing to become more independent and she is developing a really fun personality. We've been having some pretty good times lately. And in fact, I was thinking I couldn't remember the last time Hannah frustrated me.

The Lord heard those crazy thoughts of mine and must have thought to Himself, "well then, dear Abby, it is time for Hannah to cut molars and get a virus because obviously you think you are doing awesome as a parent."

Well today, I'm not sure who I got out of her crib this morning, but it wasn't Hannah-bear, it was more like Hannah-beast (ha, I just thought of that).

She caught some sort of virus this weekend in Ohio and had a fever of over 102 on Sunday. She got over that yesterday. Then this morning I noticed some bleeding where her molars should be. And just for the record, I don't think the fever is from teething. She's never gotten a fever when teething, and those usually stay a little lower than 102.5 anyway.

So the little lady has been crying this entire day. Wanting up, then wanting down, then up, then down and so on.

The only highlight of our day was swimming lessons at the Y. Hannah wasn't super excited, but I think she enjoyed herself a bit.

Today was definitely a day I would have liked Matt to come home right after school so I wouldn't have a child around my knees wanting up (then wanting down again) when I was trying to make dinner (and do anything else that would take my attention away from her). Unfortunately he got home late.

Now I remember what it's like to feel the frustration that is inevitable with parenting. Apparently I don't have the patience I thought I did.

On to another topic, I get asked a lot what words Hannah says. She talks all the time but it's all nonsense. But ask her to say baby or mommy and she says mommy. Every time. And when I told her today I was going to put her to work cleaning the bathrooms if she didn't stop whining she looked at me and stated "dada" Cause that's typically dada's job. True story. She really doesn't say much else that makes sense.

One last thing. My mom just bought for me what I think might be the greatest invention of all time. Fleece sheets. Not knit, not flannel, but fleece. Now I *really* won't ever get out of bed.

The latest and greatest family picture.