Eighth Day of Advent and Cross-bites

He cracks me up.  He sits there with that 'Say Cheese' smile just itching to open a present.  But he's going to sit there until I say it's ok :)  I could just eat him up, I love him so much.  And I love how he 'reads' the back of the book first as if he really knows that that's a synopsis of the book back there.  He does that all the time.  But hmph...maybe he is really reading the synopsis.  


I need to remember to keep reminding him that in 17 days he's giving his pacifiers to Santa Claus to take to all the babies.  Well ok, 18 days because I'm not making him give it up on Christmas night.  So, the 26th when we return to our house.  Why now?  Just look...

Yep!  That's a left posterior cross-bite he has developed!!

Thank goodness his mama is a pediatric dentist who works for one of the best pediatric dentists around.  Aunt Dr. R will be doing an appliance to correct that for Baby Tate in about 18 months.  Sigh.  And I knew it could happen.  I just didn't care.  I remember when he was 12 months old and he was starting to wean from the breast and the bottle.  I was so sad.  We were able to continue breastfeeding until he was 14 months old, and I hated when I just stopped producing milk.  It happened while we were in Chicago that October of 2010.  So there were no more bottles and no more breastfeeding.  He was in the throes of learning how to eat solid foods.  He was growing up.  But wait...there was that pacifier.  The pacifier was so sweet to me;  it calmed him and he would nestle right into me, lovey in hand.  It would have been so much easier on him for me to take it then, but I just couldn't...and not because he needed it and not that I needed him to need it.  I couldn't because it was one of the last vestiges of his babyhood for me.  Much like the diapers now...he's doing great at potty training at daycare, and wears underwear all day there.  His accidents occur usually when they're in the bathroom and he doesn't get his pants down in time.  But I don't push it at home.  At this point diapers are our last vestiges of infanthood.  The pacifier doesn't remind me of babyhood anymore, now it's a crutch for him and me!  But 12 months ago it was precious to me when he had it.  It was easier to remember his sweet little newborn face with that seemingly huge pacifier in his mouth when I gazed at his sleepy toddler face, pacifier in place.  


Therefore, we're now here anticipating giving Santa all our sue-y's in a few weeks.  Should be interesting.  I know he can do it, as he hasn't used a pacifier at daycare since this past March.  He can do this.  More importantly, I can do this.  We're a team, and we're in this together.  I can make this ok for him.  I anticipate lots of tears and lots of hugs and a few nights in bed together as we work this out.  He's come so far with his sleeping that I hate to mess with it, but we'll be ok.  Whether it takes days or weeks, we'll be ok.  I need to remember that if we're up at 3:04am one night crying together.  But my Tate is a trooper.  We will be ok.

In the midst of a good story!