Sweet Kate

Kate can be a real handful -- dumping her food upside down over and over again. Or her milk, or her water. Getting so angry when you won't let her do something...for example, measure out coffee, or buckle herself into her carseat...that she screams and wails at the unfairness of it all. I can't count the number of times in recent weeks I've just picked her up and carried her somewhere, arms wrapped tight around her so that she can't thrash too much, ignoring her loud, angry protests. I'll admit it, sometimes she's more frustrating than I could have imagined.

All that is why instances like yesterday are so remarkable. I was in the kitchen and I heard a "BONK" and then Jack wailing. I went out to check and Emily was sitting on the couch with Jack in her lap; he'd hit his head on the coffee table or something.

I sat down next to them to help soothe Jack, who continued to cry. Kate walked over. Stood a few inches away from Jack, stooped a little, and tilted her head so she could see his face.

"Otay?" she asked. She put her hand out toward him, maybe she patted him on the knee, and continued to look earnestly into his face. Trying to meet his eyes. Again: "Otay?"

When he'd almost stopped crying, she then decided it was time to make him laugh. She did a little shuffle and made a silly face. Eventually, he stopped. He was Otay.