The other night I was putting Butters to bed. We have a set bedtime routine: bath, playtime, books, then one of us snuggles and tells Butters a story. On this night he said, "Mom, I'm going to tell you a story. Onceaponatime, there was a little boy named.....Daddy. He fell down the stairs and got a booboo on his knee. So his mom put an extra large Snoopy band aid on it and it felt much better. The little boy fell and his mom made him feel better, she put an extra large band aid on it. He felt better. The end."
That's the biggest change lately, I'm Mom now, not mama. He's a big boy. It kills me. I like how the mom comes to the rescue in his story!
Speaking of bedtime, the baby is waking up again, she's been up every half hour tonight. I don't know if it's her teeth or all the injuries she's gotten in the last 48 hours-she bit her lip, smacked her face on the tub, hit her forehead on a wood block toy and sent a tinker toy rod into the back of her throat (bleeding). She's cried and made some of the worst sounds you've ever heard.
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