I'm standing in the hall when Connor comes up the stairs to ask what Lorelei did. While I was telling him that Lorelei was making bad decisions, who comes walking up behind Connor? Lorelei. She's strutting towards us like she's king of the forest, holding the baby I told she couldn't have and grinning like an evil villain straight out of a Disney movie. Oh, goody.
Three days later, I go into her room and wake her up. She's not yet ready to get out of bed, so I told her that I would go get her some clothes and then come back to get her. Her load of clean laundry was in my room, so I walked across the hall, started pulling clothes out of her basket, when I notice a small person standing next to me. She looks up at me and says, "I get out myself." I try to explain how mommy wants to help her out of her bed so that she doesn't fall and get hurt, but I can tell that I'm already losing the battle.
Again this morning she gets out of her bed. Ashton was in her room with her and yells, "Mom, she got out of her bed!" I go running up the stairs and she is already standing at the top. She says, "I do it myself." And let me explain how she talks. It's not, "I do it myself." It's said with 100% attitude. More like, "I do it my say-elf." I can only describe it like this: she's part Flint.
Even though I know it's encouraging her, I have to know how she does it. She's no bigger than a house cat, so how is she doing it? Plus, I wanted to take pictures. She's just as flexible and graceful as a cat and lands silently. I put her back in her crib and ask her to show me how she does it. She reenacts it as she describes the play-by-play:
"I put my foot like that...
...and then I slide down."
1 comment:
it really might be wise to keep our children away from each other...well, ashton is ok.
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