She's been clapping for herself lately, letting us know she knows she is doing something good. It's funny when we play "Take it out, put it in" and she claps when she has done it. She also has this ball slide where you drop the ball onto the top and it spirals down, drops a level, spirals and drops. Oh, forget it, it's this thing. Anyway, she actually likes this toy now, but also claps for herself when the ball reaches the bottom. Or maybe she's proud of gravity. Either way it's so cute!
I'm also not willing to let her cry it out at all costs. I mean, a few minutes, sure. She's just annoyed and can get over that pretty easily. It's the lose-your-breath crying I will not tolerate. I just don't think it's okay, and it's not as though I'm going to climb in bed and relax when my baby is losing her mind. I've read all the books and I've come to the devastating conclusion we just have to gut through it. I'm staying sane with the knowledge that there is only one more molar to go and she won't be cutting them when she's two. Nothing lasts forever...well, except sleeplessness. I'm pretty sure that does.
It is the end of the school year and the beginning of the school year that is slowly convincing me that large families that home school only do so because traditional school is such an ordeal. Between the start of the year and bringing $496.00 worth of kleenex and paper towels the first day, re-adjusting the household circadian rhythms and brushing too many heads of hair, and the end of the year hoop-la event after event, stuffing too big feet into too small shoes because flip-flops are not allowed, and praying that the stapled hem on the uniform holds just one more day, it seems so much easier to teach them at home with You Tube videos and household chores. Maybe I will tackle the home school thing again, but the memory of the last attempt is still too fresh for me to be so optimistic about my ability to overcome my own sloth. Thus I'll soon be hitting Costco for school supplies. If you don't hear from me, I'm probably buried under boxes of kleenex and paper towel rolls.