Everyday our little peanut is turning more and more into a little person. Her personality has grown in leaps and bounds in the past months. But with all of the added smiles and giggles, we are getting equal amounts of toddler ‘tude in exchange. Gone are the days where we can tell our princess what she’s eating, wearing, watching and reading. It’s the Taylor Show at our house now, and the rest of us are just along for the ride. Oh, but we’re useful because we prepare her food and sharpen her crayons. Otherwise, we’re just hanging out in the front row, waiting for whatever cuteness – and sometimes not-so-cuteness – she has in store for us. But, I must say, she’s 100-percent entertaining, so I’m not gonna ask for a refund.
So, yes, T has become pretty vocal in expressing her likes and dislikes. She has also learned a few new phrases this month, with her favorite being I DO! As in she wants to do EVERYTHING. Try putting on her shoes, she’ll snatch them out of your hands and scream, I DO! Try carrying her up the stairs, she’ll wiggle, flail and yell, I DO! until you let her down and watch her slowly make her way upstairs. Sometimes she’ll even pull an I DO! while I’m changing her diaper, shoving her hands in the way and making an unpleasant situation. And I’ll be all, Yes, You did DO that. Now let me clean it up.
She also started throwing the word More around quite loosely this past month. Everything you give her, she wants More. Unless it’s vegetables. And then it’s NO! And speaking of food, my little bottomless-pit has turned into – Dare I say it! – a picky eater. Now we’re no where close to her turning down a cupcake yet, but dinner time has become a bit of a battle for us. First things first, she has to eat whatever Chris and I are eating. If her plate looks any different than ours, then there’s trouble. And because I refuse to eat macaroni and tater-tots for dinner every night, we then struggle about what is actually on her plate. Oh, and we’re through with baby-plates. I have to serve her food on the salad-size version of our dinner plates. So, literally, she has a teeny-tiny replica of whatever meal we are eating that night. And if the cuisine doesn’t meet her standards, meaning if there aren’t any beans or rice on her plate, then WATCH OUT. Or just eat really, really fast so the entire experience will be done soon. Because for some reason, even though we have the same exact things on our matching plates of food, if she’s unimpressed with her’s, she’ll stretch her chubby hand over to my or Chris’s plate, start stabbing at our food and chime, Bite. BITE! BYE-EAT! until she’s gets a taster of our meal. Which is the same as hers, but in her toddler-brain she thinks whatever is on our plates must taste like cookies and ice cream. Oh, whatever. Pick your battles, right? But now you know why we serve black beans with every meal when we have company over.
And other than copying our food, she’s also mimicking us in other departments. Some cute, like singing in the car or sipping her fake-coffee and going, YUM! And some annoying, like dipping her finger into my empty contact case and then shoving it in her eye, and then whining because her eye hurts. And some just down-right hilarious, like when she fished Chris’s deoderant out of his drawer when I was in the shower, took the lid off and smeared Old Spice all over her entire belly. Which resulted in my little stinker smelling like a grown-man until her bath later that night.
But other than smelling like a boy for an afternoon, she is proving to be all girl. A girly-girl, actually. She is still absolutely obsessed with her baby dolls, giving them kisses, dressing them up and feeding them their baby bottles and such. She’ll even cover them up with a blanket, say, Nye-nye, and put her finger up to her mouth make a shooshing sound. And I’m pretty sure she would wear a tutu every day if I would let her. She is even prone to grabbing one out of her storage bin and putting it on all by herself, I DO! Oh, here’s a good one - Princess and I were at Baby Gap the other week with a friend of mine who has two little boys, both of whom were securely fastened in the stroller, and I caught T grabbing hats and headbands off the shelves, prancing over to the stroller and trying them on for the boys, being all, Do you like THIS one? How about THIS hat? Doesn’t it make my eyes look pretty?
And I’m pretty sure the girlyness all came to a head the other afternoon when Chris and Taylor were playing and he grabbed the soccer ball to kick back and forth with her. And while she kicked it a few times, all with a baby doll gripped in her hands, we eventually realized that she wasn’t just booting the ball to Chris as much as she was just trying to get it AWAY FROM HER. Which became a lot more obvious when he switched to a soft ball and was trying to teach her to catch it when he lobbed it into her lap. And each time he threw it, she would move completely out of the way, watch it bounce to the ground and then look at Chris like, Um, DAD! Could you stop trying to hit me with that ball? How am I supposed to take care of my baby when I’m constantly concerned about balls flying at me?
Ah. As I said, we have a got a pretty good thing going right now. We’re happy, healthy and entertained. What more could we ask for?
1 comment:
I know this post was all about Taylor, and while I LOVE reading about her and her stories and how she's growing into a little girly-girl, I was distracted (in a good way) by the last picture. The picture of Taylor and YOU, her wonderful mother. Look at YOU, Brooke! You are still glowing. I can see the happiness in your face and pride in your words.
And your little Taylor, is a very, very lucky girl to have you.
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