Fly me to the moon

Abbie's latest bad habit is grinding her teeth, and boy does that bother her dad. While walking around with her, she'll suddenly start sounding like she found a piece of granite to gnaw very loudly. Most horrifyingly, she only seems to grind her teeth when I carry her, and not when her mother carries her. Apparently children enter the world with an innate desire to ruin their teeth, and since I give her very little sugar, she has to take matters into her own hands. I'm anxiously awaiting the day when she can comprehend me when I tell her not to do something. Then I'll know that, instead of not being able to understand me, she's just choosing to ignore me. I view that as progress.

Here are more pictures of Abbie in the park. She's sitting on a rocking rocket ship thing, and not quite getting the idea. Just being outside is still enough entertainment for her, though. That's our dog in one of the pictures.




If anyone is interested in helping, I'm making an effigy of LaTroy Hawkins to burn. Is it possible that maybe, just maybe, another Cub would be better in the closer role?