Monday, April 23, 2012
Clearly Instagram Sunday belongs to more type-A people than me because I choose to do Instagram-whatever-damn-day-it-is.
So, today is the day. Because it just is.
We are enjoying our new home, figuring out how we will use the space, getting used to things, small people getting lost every now and then, and dealing with a real acoustics problem. I mean, it sounds like my husband is pouring coffee onto my pillow when he is across the house in the kitchen at four a.m. preparing his morning joe. It’s so strange and we have got to get some rugs and curtains up in this house to try and absorb some of that sound travel!
Paisley is just growing up too much. She really is in her terrible twos, or is just going to turn out just like me and we are going to be in for it. I love that little bug, she is going to really give us a run for our money, though.
When dry shampoo is not enough.
Someone got their first haircut. Rise against the baby mullet. Seriously, parents.
Helping me shop. Don’t you dare try to take those crackers away from her even though she hasn’t eaten one in an hour. I learn these lessons the hard way.
We FINALLY wore sandals! Welcome, summer :)
Not only sandals, but little rompers and walks in the stroller. This makes for one happy girl.
Daddy naps. Whatever works.
I think we will be “moving in” for the next 6 months.
This photo is not intentionally sloppy. That was the actual state of my utensil drawer when I opened it.
I’d like to thank Wal-Mart and the inventor or Rubbermaid drawer dividers. Thank you.
Get in my belleh. I have an unhealthy burrito addiction.
New phrase: “Oh nooo!”. And for the first time this weekend, she copied what I said without being prompted. I said “Oh dear” in the parking lot and she quickly repeated like a little parrot. Does this mean I’m going to have to start watching my language? DAMMIT!
I’m coming around to this the hard way. My daughter is me. It takes a basket full of expensive, dermatologist recommended, fragrance-free, super plus therapy, natural, hypoallergenic
shit stuff to keep her from breaking out in hives or some other terrible disaster. It’s like me all over again in miniature form. Hi, Mom- I am sorry I did this to you. Don’t worry, I’m getting mine now.
I don’t think I am going to EVER have my husband mount my body mirror in the new house. The further I lean it against the wall, the taller and skinnier I get. I like having this type of control :)
Posted by Wendy at 6:00 PM
Thursday, April 19, 2012
She loves her school. We love her school. We decided to join her in her first-ever Easter Egg hunt. It went great and she took the reigns immediately wondering why I was trying to steal her basket. She showed us the slide and walked around acting shy. Inside some of the eggs were jelly beans.
Can I just ask this: do parents of 18 month olds really give their kids jellybeans?? Paisley had like 4 halves of molars. And she’s never had candy. Gummy or chewy candy really does not seem like it’d be easy for them.
Maybe I’m the weird one?
At the end it was like ‘Oh, we’ve been having such a fun time here and she’s had pictures with everyone else…how about ONE picture with mommy and daddy?’
This is what I get.
I’m calling this experience, this face, and this photo awesome because this shit always happens when you want things to go right.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Paisley is newly obsessed with opposites and doing things on her own. Every light switch we pass while walking through the house; “ohn, ohn, ohhn”. Every door, cabinet, drawer, lotion, bottle; “opu, opu!”. One of the things she recently learned is off. The second I get those snaps done on her little jacket, she looks at me and pulls her jacket open, unsnapping every single one. Then she takes it off and throws it in the dirt.
I saw this at daycare (on another child) and asked about it. I was like ohhhhhh! Not a few days later, my little Houdini was doing it as well.
I know, easy. Smart. Also known as toddler straight jacket. But lemme tell you, she kept it on.
He he he.
Monday, April 16, 2012
It was St. Patrick’s Day, I think.
That would have made her 17 months to be exact.
We were trying to beat boredom and fussiness with some crafts. We brought out the finger paint, which she had used a few times before. I knew right away things were going to be problematic. She was upset to find out her daddy would only open one color at a time.
So, of course, he let her open two.
Then, she became upset because she could only paint on the paper.
So, of course, he let her paint his hand.
He painted hers a little, too.
After this photo, there were more objections, more whining, which turned to crying, which resulted in Miss Pea being “excused” from the table, I’ll say.
What happened when those feet hit the floor was something else. She threw herself on the floor as hard as she could. Butt first, then the upper body followed. She continued to roll around squealing at the highest octave she was capable of and Andrew and I stood and watched in disbelief. In fact, I think we laughed (without her knowing). We were just in awe of the acrobatics and the show that was being put on before us.
This was the first.
There have been many more.
There will be many, many more.