Pavlov's dogs have nothing on me

It's amazing how we've all been trained to react to certain things over the past several months. Tonight at bedtime Samantha looked at me and said "Daddy, my knee hurts a little." I instinctively cringed and began to wonder if the past few days have just been an aberration, or if she was developing some sort of resistance to naproxen, and began to think about where I'd put away all of the other pain medications in case I had to get them all out again tonight.

A little more inquiry revealed that "my knee hurts" really meant "my shin hurts below my knee because I was racing around today like a crazed banshee and banged it against something." Crisis averted. Naproxen continues to act as the wonder drug, and Sam is sleeping through the night. It's true that she often doesn't go to bed until sometime between 8 pm and 9 pm and that she rises with the dawn (often coming into our room to try to climb into bed with us at dawn, or sometime before), but she's always been like that.

How I ever ended up as the parent of a morning person I will never understand. But the start of the school year is just over the horizon so I'm going to have to become more of a morning person myself soon enough. Preschool started at the relatively civilized hour of 9 am and it was always okay to be 5 or 10 minutes late if that's how it worked out, but kindergarten begins at 8:10 am and tardiness is not an option.

Joshua, meanwhile, is having a tough couple of days. He's not sleeping well, and he keeps chewing on his fingers. It's possible he's got another set of teeth ready to come in. They really do change on you overnight, don't they?