Usually she goes down for her nap (even if some days that means an hour or so of playing/singing/talking to me/pretending/ in her crib ) easily. No fighting for her nap, like we used to do. But then there was today. She was literally and I mean literally bouncing off the walls, climbed out of her crib at least half a dozen times. Dropping every last stuffed animal and blanket out of her crib and then hollering for me to give them all back, repeatedly. (which is no small feat, since she has more stuffed animals than we have fingers and toes to count them on ) I must have heard the ABC's and other various songs a good twenty times. Not to mention the 3 bottle refills 2 trips to the bathroom and 2 new diapers. And for two whole hours she was most happy to do anything but lay down in her crib and take a nap. So eventually of course I gave up and when I had gone in the for goodness knows the how many-eth time, before I her down to run and play I looked her in the eye and asked most bewilderingly, " why won't you go to sleep?" Oh and she had the answer, boy did she ever, quick as a whistle she explained to me. " Mommy, you need to turn Annabelle off." Brilliant idea. Cannot believe I hadn't thought of that before. So now we are on to something right, except that she won't tell me where the off-button is.
I have already decided though, tomorrow she is not going to be allowed to sleep past 9 am. Humph! I am going to wake her up bright and early and see if that doesn't help me find her off button. But hey, after today...what do I know anyway?
-She can and does unbuckle her own car seat.
- She is saying " I can't." Even though I have outlawed that phrase in my house.
-She runs everywhere she goes but it's more like this half skip, tippy-toed floating movement that is just so darling. And her then there are her curls. They bounce along cheerfully behind her the sight of which delights me many times a day.
- Which reminds me of how she tells us that she has a baby in her tummy, even though we've have explained very thoroughly to her that isn't the way it works.
- If anyone calls her a baby she right away corrects you and says: "My not a baby, my a big durl."
- The other night we asked if she wanted to pray and she said " Hi Jesus. You are my nice friend." Melts my heart like nothing else to hear her talk to Jesus.
- We tell her to "STOP" and she runs faster in the opposite direction. Yes, I know it'd dangerous. We are working on it.
- David told someone the other day that she was two-and-a-half and I wanted to argue with him and deny it. But I can't because it's true.
- Instead I redetermine to
- Embrace, embrace, embrace.
- Each new day.
- Before they are so suddenly,
- Gone.
In case you might even be the slightest bit curious about what's been keeping me from my blog this last week...besides the usual weekend trips to ID ( we just got home from our eighth this summer and have logged over 3000 miles in the last 3 weeks on our car ), random hikes ( we've been on two so far this week ) super fun, the quilts ( one top finished, and I am hoping to get another one completed tomorrow ) also fun, spinning with Annabelle in our back yard ( she begs all day long, " Mommy come spin with me ") thinking about trying to tackle all the other untouched household tasks, and in all the rest of my spare time ( i.e. after everyone is in bed for the night )I have been Blurb-ing. Grannie Annie turns ninety next weekend and I have gotten our family together and complied and a little book for her. So every spare minute has been spent on this project. As of 2:36 am on Friday morning, I am happy to say, I am Done. It's called 90 Reasons We Love You ( And Then Some, is the subtitle because there are really 127 ), and think I am going to be really happy with it, especially knowing how tickled she's going to be when she opens it. A lot of funny and special memories in those 26 pages. A lot of memories and a lot of love. One more thing, I am so blurry-eyed I have no idea if what I have just typed made any sense. Even if it does good, if not I know you won't love me any less for it. That or I can always come back tommorow, I mean later on today and erase it if it's that bad.
We have had to implement a emergency protocol around here this week. Also called the three second rule. It's definition and meaning vary depending who you talk to. In this household it means, you are not allowed longer than 3 seconds to take your eyes off your one and only rather tricky two year old daughter. 3 seconds. Exactly. Tonight as I told David that she was quietly laying on our gorgeous expensive, still very new couch looking at a book, he responds by going to take a look for himself, she was being awfully quiet...momentarily I hear, " uh, Chelle...come here." Great. Now what? He hands me a stick of butter. Annabelle looks up sheepishly. The evidence is clear by the little teeth marks, and several big chunks missing from said cube of butter. What do I do? Every time I turn my back she sneaks into the fridge to steal big bites of butter.
It's the far from malicious on her part, but I feel like we've crossed a line with her in the past several days...she is getting into so much mischief.
To start off with....as I pause for effect and to cringe again.... she dipped her head in the toilet. And yes you read that correctly. As I swapped the laundry from the washer to the dryer I hear her proudly announce to me " my dipped my head in the toilet, Mommy, " assuming I was going to applaud the venture. Sure enough the toilet seat behind me was up and her head was dripping wet. She looked a little shocked as I whisked her immediately to get the sink to was hair and rewash her hair and lecture her again how the toilet is icky and full of germs, those invisible bugs that can make you have a big tummy ache and how you should never ever, under any circumstances put any of your little girl body parts in the toilet. And I mean it. It only made me feel slightly better that there was nothing in the toilet at the time and that I had just cleaned it the day before.
Over the weekend she managed to break David's cell phone, my very cute and thankfully cheap sunglasses and this little orange wooden sign that I had bought to stick above our bed that said FLIRT. All of those things broken of course by means of a truly eager accident.
Then yesterday, as I sat on the back porch talking on the phone, and watching her play in the car, maybe four feet away from me...only to later uncover the damage later. She stuck 5 coins in the car CD player, which obviously no longer works and she wrote with a black pen that she must have found in the console, all over the drivers seat and inside of the do...all this while I thought she was blissfully pretending " to drive. " By the way, hairspray takes pen marks out of leather, beautifully. And the days of playing in the car, sad as it is to say, have come to an end.
Today while we were at the lake she would blitz for end of the dock, but only just after I would take her life jacket off. Give me a heart attack, the child is fast. And remember how I told you that she loves to be chased?
From tippy toes to finger tips she exudes this incredible wild energy for life. There is an air of passionate freedom, of pure joy for every waking hour of the day. A curiosity that isn't intimidated by anything. And it's my job to protect her, and set boundaries. Lots of them. And pray that all of that fire gets channeled in the coming years, into a love for Jesus and others that runs deep inside her heart.
So throw back your head and run free little one, Mommy's trying her hardest to keep up with you.
And please, no more dipping your hair in the toilet or snitching butter when my back is turned. How about taking a little break from the miniature disasters for a couple days?
I should not be doing this right now. After fourty five minutes, the little voice from underneath the nursery door has finally fallen silent.That means I should straight away head to the kitchen sink and finish washing up the pile if neglected dishes or work on the 3rd and final quilt that is partially laid out on the living room floor. It means I could fix myself a sandwich and change into anything other than jammy bottoms, put on some makeup and fix my hair, or I could vacuum the floor, clean out the refrigerator, or scrub the toilets. All things that need to be done.
For the most part she goes to bed willingly these nights and tells us " and when my wake up...." and because she is just plain tuckered out. " So the dishes wait. The quilt remains untouched on the living room floor. My hair is a mess and I am terrified someone will come to the door and find me still in my jammy pants. But in the meantime there is laughter and sunshine and togetherness and plenty of time to by all means, stop and smell the roses.
