{ miniature disasters }

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?