For the last week Zoe has been a bottomless tank. The girl just wants to eat. It hasn't been uncommon for her to consist of three pieces of ham, an entire bowl of mashed potatoes, a quarter can of green beans and then she'll ask if she can have a cookie.
That really should've been our first clue that she was growing, but no, we just figured she was hungry.
Yesterday morning she slept until ten o'clock. TEN! That's unheard of. That really should've been our second clue that she was growing, but no, we just figured she was tired.
While playing at grandma's house yesterday she complained that her leg hurt. I believe her actual words were, "my leg is crying." Isn't that the sweetest way to say something hurts?
When she got up to play some more, she wouldn't put any weight on that leg. So we called the doctor and made an appointment.
Just a growing pain.
Both N and I had some horrible growing pains. I remember laying on a waterbed trying to relax because the pain in my legs was so severe. Granted I was a bit of a dramatic wuss. While I may have had the same physical reaction to a sliver that I did to a growing pain, I can tell you with all assurance that those growing pains were brutal. The slivers weren't so much, I was just more afraid of the needle my mom would use to get it out.
Zoe isn't a girl who complains about pain. She would be getting three teeth at once and we'd only know about it because we could see it coming through her gums. Her pain tolerance is higher than mine. Obviously, if a sliver can cause me to go into hysterics. In my defense, no one really likes a sliver. When I get one of those my finger really does cry.
As does my pride.
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