My official diagnosis as her mother is that she is working on some more molars. She's discovered the really good things to put in her mouth for that: pens, toothbrush, new plastic hot dog for the kitchen. Anything long and slender is fabulous for getting to those back gums and chewing. She drools up a storm while she's at it. She's also not sleeping her usual Joanna-well, and at this moment she is moaning and crying and screaming at my feet. Apparently my holding her makes everything okay. As long as we're standing and I'm not doing anything else. Um, right.
I have lots to blog about over the weekend (nothing exciting, just fun Pence stuff), but the noise from below me is getting to me.
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