Yesterday Holly worked very hard at cutting another tooth, and when I check this morning, there it was, nice and sharp. The appearance of teeth is every nursing mother's dream come true. Trust me.
She's been restless the last few nights. Mostly I think it's because she's anxious to get a move on. Yesterday I put her on her little gym mat and she got herself up onto all fours and started to rock back and forth, getting a feel for balance. Almost every time we go to her room to get her up from bed, she's on her hands and knees. When Henry was a baby, he enjoyed the novelty of being able to sit up on his own for a while before he decided to think about becoming mobile. It was great. I could plop him down on a blanket with some toys and he'd sit there and play, happy as a clam. Holly, meanwhile, has, in a few short days, completely mastered the art of pushing herself backwards and gets extremely grumpy when she finds herself lodged around a chair leg and can't go any further. I have a feeling that Dave, Henry, and I will be spending a great deal of time fearfully watching Holly from betwixt our fingers.