Cutting our teeth

Julian's got a tooth! Well, he has about 20 that just haven’t grown in yet, but his lower right incisor is poking through the gums. It’s causing him some pain now and then, but in general, he’s handling it like a champ. Remember when you’d feel teeth coming in? I particularly remember molars hurting even when I was in high school! Growing up with GaGa, who’s a dental assistant in addition to a phenomenal grandmother, Chelsea and I learned quite a bit about teeth (and their care). I had braces at the unbelievably early age of 8 (on the bottom teeth only) and was always so excited to get the bands changed because I got to pick which colors I wanted. GaGa was always there, helping Dr. Asay put on the season-coordinated rubbers (pastels near Easter, black and orange near Halloween, red and green in December). Taking care of one’s teeth was so ingrained in me that I used to yell at Troy about chewing ice (one of his guilty pleasures) and I still ask Ian if he’s been flossing.

So, watching Julian’s teeth come in is going to be a trip. He’s only got the one coming in now, so we’ve taken to calling him Scraggle Tooth, and, to my pleasure, he hasn’t discovered the pain he can inflict with biting. It’s only a matter of time, I’m sure. Another update, we got a high chair and have been giving him a serving or so of rice cereal a day (little of which actually makes it in his mouth).

We had the Baker-Smiths over last night. Ruby can stand on her own! (Even if only for a few seconds, this is an impressive feat for a child of 7.5 months.) It’s been so neat to see how she and Julian’s personalities have been forming over the past months. They are such unique individuals already. We figured they began to diverge from the similar sleepy newborns they started as around 2 months of age. Now, Ruby has her own Rubyisms and Julian has his. They seem to “like” one another, whatever that means at their ages, but they are certainly curious about the other and are starting to interact more.

It’s so great to have Ruby’s parents as friends. They know what it’s like to have this wonderful new lifeforce around, and we respond similarly to parenthood, which is a feat on its own. Everyone reacts so differently to being a parent and, quite frankly, most of them drive me nuts. The micromanaging, the overplanning, the worrying. I mean, I can see how people lose themselves in their children, which to a certain extent can be a good thing. If you aren’t affected by having a kid then you shouldn’t have had him or her in the first place. But American parents in general go way overboard and forget who they were before the diapers and Onesies.

Having made the statement above, I’ve had an interesting observation recently. I realized that I have no desire to be the person I was before I had Julian. Wishing for the time before having him was something I was quite concerned about when choosing to have him. Would I miss the old Addie? You know, the self-absorbed, cynical, I-don’t-need-anyone-but-me one. The Addie who (well, most of you know that version of me well enough to insert something here). I think much of that person is still there. The good stuff, I’d like to think. But Julian (and Ian, I must admit) have done something to me. Affected a personal change that otherwise I would not have experienced. Or maybe would have experienced, just at a later date. And I’m just so damned grateful for it. Which is interesting. Gratitude was my first tattoo. The tattoo chosen by an older version of me. I guess some things never do change.