Cute, Funny, AND Scary

Kenly had learned a new word. This word can't be mistaken for anything else. This word can be understood without Mommy or Daddy translating.

In the past few days, Kenly has been trying this word on for size. Right now her use of the word is funny and cute, but I'm scared.

Last night when Kenly was about to put her hand in the dog's water, I said, "Kenly. Don't touch it. Chance's water is not for you." She quickly turned around, wearing a rather stern face, and said, "No. No. No."

When she was about to touch the dishwasher, I said, "Kenly..." She turned around and said, "No." This time she performed an emphatic bounce to illustrate her point.

Any time she gets busted about to do something wrong, she turns around and says, "No." I use every ounce of my energy to keep from laughing out loud. We don't want to encourage the use of that word just yet.

It's like she's telling herself no before I have to. But, all too quickly, the tables will turn. Before I know it, I'll ask her to sit down, and she'll say, "No." When that happens, it won't be funny any more.

Heart Attack

This morning I was snoozing while listening to Kenly make sleepy noises and soft moans. She's a noisy sleeper when she's sick. All of a sudden, I heard a loud squeal and a horrible crash. I was on my feet in less than a second and across the house in under three. I've been having these horrible dreams about Kenly climbing out of her crib and hitting the floor. I was sure I was going to find Kenly screaming on the carpet beneath her crib. I ran into her room calling her name. I flipped on the light, looked on the floor, and got really confused. My eyes went from the floor to the crib, and what did I see? My darling daughter smiling brightly with a look that said, I thought you'd never get here.

My next thought was that someone was trying to get in the house. I grabbed Kenly and made Chance follow me. We looked at all the doors and windows. Everything was shut tight...no sign of forced intrusion.

At this point I was sure I'd gone crazy. I started an investigation, and what cause the terror I still haven't wholly recovered from?

My husband's razor. Oh, and a well timed squeal from Kenly. Yep, you read that right. A razor and a squeal. His razor started my day off with a jolt of adrenaline when it fell from its perch in the shower.