28 months old

Earlier this week Taylor hit her 28-months-of-being-alive mark, meaning it’s time for me to post a recap of the last month of our daughter’s life. And I’m sure many of you think it’s weird that I still observe her monthly birthdays, but since this site is basically the only form of a baby book I have for my little monkey, I’ve got to record all the milestones and memories we celebrate through this journey called parenthood. Ah, the cuteness and chaos that comes in raising a squishy, sassy little person named Taylor. It’s a journey, people. And I’m glad you’re along for the ride.

So this month was a lot like last month in that every day we managed to find something totally fun for the peanut to do. Swimming, boating, fountains, parks, movies and lots of play dates. And while some of these morning and early-afternoon activities were mother-daughter duets, Chris has been leading us through the majority of our adventures. And T and her Daddy have become as thick-as-thieves lately – Making projects in the workshop, playing hide and seek, building castles. There are now set boundaries as to what I am allowed to play with her, and many times I have heard, No, Mom. I do that with Dad.

Yes, everything about the two of them playing together makes my heart smile. Especially since Chris is a total sucker when it comes to telling his sweet princess, No. Like last weekend when Taylor kept squealing at Chris to get into the Splashville fountain with her, and he was all, But Daddy doesn’t have his swimsuit on, Honey. And she was all, Daddy! COME HERE! And then he spent the rest of his picnic walking around in soggy shorts.

And later that night, when I finished reading her our before-bed books and then asked her my nightly, What was your favorite part of the day? question, it was no surprise that she smiled real big and said, My Daddy.

She seems to have lots of adorable phrases coming out of her mouth lately, and I feel like I stop her about a hundred times a day and ask her to repeat something just so I can hear it and all of it’s cuteness again. Like on the way home from the park a few weeks ago when she announced, That was PERFECT. And Chris and I laughed and said, What? And she repeated herself, Park was perfect. And then Chris asked her where she learned the word Perfect, and she responded, Oh. I learn it to myself, Daddy.

But while it has been about 90-percent loveliness these past weeks, no Monthly Milestone post would be complete without my Temper Tantrum of the Month story. Oh yes, we had quite a few contenders for this title, but, hands down, the big winner happened earlier this week at a play date. In fact, I believe I explained to Chris as, The most embarrassing, gigantic melt-down I have ever witnessed. A true dumpster fire, folks. It started with Princess Taylor morphing into the Terrible T, and then shoving her friend down to the ground over a toy. At which point I grabbed my daughter by the shoulders and physically had to hold her down to the ground in a time out, all while she’s screaming at the top of her lungs and flailing all her limbs in the air. And after about five minutes of that scene, we had to abruptly leave the party with me carrying her like a football under my arms out to the car. Only this football weighed over 30 pounds and was convulsing and shrieking like a demon on crack. And I’m all, Hey, Katie. Thank you so much for having us over. Let’s do this again another time when my kid isn’t a raging lunatic. And she just laughed. Because it’s funny when it’s not YOUR kid that’s acting rotten, right?

And as I drove home with the screeching background noise of, TAKE ME BACK TO LANEY’S HOUSE! TAKE ME BACK TO LANEY’S HOUSE!, I could physically feel my blood pressure reaching dangerous levels. And I had one of those, Am I gonna be able to do this? moments. Very similar to the feelings I had in my chest as we left the hospital with newborn-baby Taylor and my emotions were on overdrive and I kept looking over my shoulder like, Are they really going to let us leave with her? What now? And now, over two years later, I still get those same uncertain feelings when she has a giant melt-down, or when someone asks me why I approach something in mothering the way I do, and I respond by shrugging my shoulders and saying, I don’t know! I honestly have no clue what I’m doing. But, Hey, we’ve made it 28 months. And we’re all in one piece. And we’re happier than we’ve ever been. So we must be doing something right. Right?