"Why?" I asked her. "Don't you think Little A is a pretty name?"
"Yes," she responded, "But, I like Oriole."
"Ariel?" I asked.
"Yes. I like that name," she tells me.
"Well, Little A already has a very pretty name, so I think we will keep it," I tell her.
Later, I was sitting in my office working, and she runs in with
"Do you see my pretty baby, mom? Her name is Oriole," she says.
"Oh, OK. Oriole. Very nice," I say.
Since then, she's been fixated on it. Every doll, every stuffed animal- Oriole. She draws a picture... it's of Oriole. I'm a bit perplexed.
Like, an Oriole?
She's a strange little bird, no pun intended...
This morning, we went to the library for story time and crafts. Afterwards, we took the girls to Old McDonald's for lunch.
Not long ago, we returned home, and I gave Little A her milk and laid her down for her rest. She sat right up, so I knew she wasn't intending on sleeping right away. She was playing happily, and I went down to the office to do some work.
Moments later, I heard a bang and a crash, and the dreaded scream followed by no sound... no sound... no sound... suck in... S-C-R-E-A-M.
I ran upstairs... just knowing there would be blood.
There was blood.
A lot of blood.
I have no idea what happened. She was sitting in her crib (I half expected her to be on the floor, to be honest) and blood was just pouring out of her mouth and down her arms.
She must have hit her mouth and teeth on the crib rail? Still not sure, exactly...
After a major clean up on the both of us, and some kisses and cuddles, all is well.
I think the blood was largely from her frenum. It looked like it had split open.
I'm still hoping her top teeth are in there, solidly...
Guess we won't have this issue with Little A!