Return of the Butter-Haired Dragon

*I originally started this post days ago and am leaving the original post date. You're not crazy; I'm lazy.

'Heavy Lies the Crown' is one of the classic burdens of the firstborn child; a duty to set a good example, a feeling of responsibility for younger siblings, growing up a little faster than the others in order to do your part in the family. These things can be a little stressful...especially when you happen to be all of 20 months old. Let's just say that my oldest had a little meltdown today...and she strategically timed it while we were at the pediatrician's office.

Lately, we've all been feeling a little sick and when Audrey feels crummy, you can tell. It's in the puffiness around her glassy eyes and the never-ending stream of " uppy? uppy? uppy?? UPPY!! UPPY!!!! AAAAAGGGHHHH!" She's a real treat when she's down in the dumps. I was starting to fear that my sweet, crazy butter-haired dragon had been replaced permanently by this demanding, temperamental toddler.

Then magically, yesterday the monster was gone. I had a daughter who could actually smile and play independently. She laughed and wrestled with me on the floor after nap time. She ate her snacks and her dinner without going into hysterics. (She also peed in her high chair, but that's another story) It was amazing and I was starting to hope that this would become the new 'normal'

And then I ruined it all by taking her to satan's lair...did I say that? I meant to the pediatrician.

To be fair, she gave the place a chance. It took about two minutes before she realized where we were and what happened last time we were there. By the time we were shown back to the exam room, she was glued to my side, crying and had defaulted to 'just answer 'no' to any question Mom asks' mode. I brought with me an arsenal of distractions: pens, blankies, doodlewriters, crackers, cool water bottles...NOTHING would distract her from the thought that she might be about to die a horrible death. And she wasn't even the one we were there for.

It was Bailey's two month appointment. True to Gunniwolf form, she was happy as a clam the entire time we were there. She cooed and smiled when the doctor examined her--she even gurgled a semi-laugh when Dr. D touched her belly with the stethoscope. The little rump roast has porked up to a bit over 10 lbs and is now 23 inches long. That means she's still in the 50th percentile for weight and has jumped to the 75th percentile for height. I had an inkling she was going through a growth spurt as she seemed to develop triple chins in the span of four days since switching to bottles. It could have something to do with the fact that she's taking 6 oz. at every feeding now. I was getting worried (even though your kid getting too much to eat seems like a strange concern to me) but it turns out that some babies just have a larger stomach capacity and Bailey is one of them (sorry if your siblings take that one and run with it, Gunni.) Anyway, the fantastic news about this is that because she can eat so much, Bailey can go longer than the average infant between meals. This translates to 4-hour stretches of sleep at night. And I've lost track of how many times she's slept the entire night in the bassinet. Talk about polar opposite of her sister!

Speaking of which, remember where we were...back at the doctor's office? Audrey was resembling an ostrich with her head firmly burrowed in my neck, sure that at any moment she would be eaten alive. In her defense, she was there to get two vaccinations and I had to restrain her in a bear hug so the doctor could give them to her. After that whole ordeal, Dr. D asked if we had given Audrey candy yet. I declared it was definitely the time to start. She returned with a watermelon dum dum. Audrey held out her hand demandingly and later walked out of the office, tear and slobber stains soaking her shirt, with her sticky sugar-coated hand in mine. My sweet little dragon had come back! She sang me songs in the car on the way home.

Moral of this story? Life doesn't necessarily seem to be getting any easier, but it sure does feel blessed.