I kid, I kid. But now I totally understand the biological instinct to love your child unconditionally, because that other instinct to sell them for a nickle kicks in right about the time they learn to make that really awful high-pitched whining noise when they don't get what they want right exactly when and how they want it. So now I get it; the terrible-twos start right around 1 and a half and last until 25.
But that is a very small portion of what goes on, it's just very obvious given her otherwise sweet and playful nature. She's at a very fun age where she loves to play with other kids and they love to play with her. She loves to repeat everything, and copy what we do. She rushes into the bathroom if the toilet seat cover is up because she is convinced putting it back down is an integral part of the routine. It feels like we're getting closer to potty-training, the other day she looked at me, said, "poopy," and then did it, so now I just need to get my ass in gear to get her to the toilet. In the meantime, she's discovered her toilet also serves as a stool.
And loves more than anything to brush her teeth, and will ask you twelve-million times a day if she can brush her teeth. Then wash her hands.
Somewhere in between brushing her teeth and washing her hands, she'll settle in with a bowl of Cheerios and PBS morning programming. She loves Curious George, The Cat in the Hat, and especially SuperWhy. They just wouldn't be entertaining for children if they didn't make parents want to blow their brains out.
Although it was determined that I haven't actually gained any weight, that I've in fact lost 2 pounds, I still want to do Yoga. And I get the added bonus of doing it on a bed of Cheerios.
So then she starts doing Yoga of her own since playing in the lower part of her bassinet is the best thing ever, but she's just a wee bit big.
Our mornings are pretty low-key. Well, she has tons of energy but she doesn't seem to mind that I don't, and she's content with running around the house using her vibrant, little imagination. She loves books and loves to pull out and look at Mommy's books, even if there aren't any pictures.
Next activity: hauling her horsey out from her room, snacking on crackers and Yo Gabba Gabba-watching.
Greatest picture ever. She's starting to get the idea of the camera, when I pulled it out to take this she gave me this grin and said, "picture."
Sometimes she'll run in her room just to give her stuffed animals a snuggle; specially as it's getting closer to nap time. She naps on a set schedule now, 2 hours a day. She knows exactly when it's coming and when I say, "Ok, nap time," she gathers her beloved sleeping necessities and hauls them to her room. She even throws them over the crib rail into the crib and tries to climb in (which sucks because soon she'll start to try climbing out).
I'm a complete worry-wort, paranoid, nut-job of a mother so I swore I'd wait until my kid was 10 before allowing them anywhere near a peanut. But then I did what any rational, information-seeking individual does - googled. Turns out, if either the mother or father have a family history of peanut allergies, you're supposed to wait until they're 3 years old. As in our case, if no one in your families are known to have a peanut allergy you can introduce it after a year. So we did and, of course, like any red-blooded American child, she likes a good PB&J now and again (although I can't for the life of me understand why she doesn't like macaroni and cheese).
Besides being court-side to all of this adorable-ness, I get things done around the house, and I bake. Just call me June!
I love staying home with my Zoey, I really do. There's nowhere I'd rather be, and there is no the other cranky person I'd rather deal with. And she's the only one who can turn me from mad to sweet in 2-seconds flat. And you all thought that wasn't possible! Miss Z is already breaking those glass ceilings.