"Another what," you ask.
"Fingertip," I answer sheepishly.
I hadn't mangled baby girl's fingers since the day we brought her home from the hospital. That streak is over. I think a combination of cockiness on my part and squirminess on her part lead to this morning's hack job on her right pointer finger, which she's been holding up for all the world to see since I chopped it. Her little finger bled and bled. In fact, there are tiny little bloody fingerprints all over the outfit she was wearing, our bedspread, and the shirt I was wearing. She finally sucked on her finger until I think she sucked all the blood out because it finally stopped. She'll make it, though, and I think she'll make it without reconstructive surgery or anything dramatic (like bandaids).
Beyond that, we're planning a trip over to Mother Nurture when she wakes up from her nap. We're buying cloth diapers. Wish me luck. I take that back. We don't need luck. We can do this. We're also bravely moving forward with her "sleep training." She actually fell asleep last night without crying. She just sucked her fingers for a few minutes and conked out. She woke up a little after a few minutes, but she fell right back to sleep. Of course, she was totally restless this morning from about 4am on. That explains this afternoon's super-nap.
I've been trying to pay closer attention to her sleepiness the past few days, and it's amazing how clear her patterns are becoming. I feel like I've been neglecting her little cues all this time. I feel like most of the times that she's been really fussy are probably my fault for not paying attention to what she was trying to tell me. I'm going to try to NOT let the guilt eat at my insides.
Ah, parenting. I love it. I have nothing else to even talk about anymore. How one-dimensional am I?