I recently came across this blog on Reddit and laughed so hard I cried. Read it HERE. In it, the blogger describes her 10-month-old's real present list to Santa. I identified with almost every item on the list.
I will proudly admit that I have done a really good job of hiding electrical cords from Clara but whenever I forget to close the bathroom door I return to the mayhem of a cloudy pile of unwound toilet paper, the items of the bathroom trash strewn across the floor, and the strong possibility of one of Clara's dolls posed in her potty, or (heaven forbid) if I have also forgotten to close the toilet seat, a soggy doll taking a bath in the toilet.
I would also love to know what aspect of our evolution has enabled small babies to grasp tiny objects - almost invisibly tiny objects - in their fingers and then carry them to their mouth for a taste. Was food in the distant past so scarce that babies were crawling around under the tables fighting over tiny crumbs, Lord of the Flies style? Because I find myself vacuuming the entire house every single day because no matter how clean the floor is Clara finds the one stale, ancient broken shard of Chex cereal hiding in a crack in the floorboard and pops it in her mouth before I can blink. Ninja-style, Clara gets her hands on everything I think she shouldn't have. Here's a picture she snapped with my phone after stealing it out of my pocket and running away with it, madly giggling and pressing buttons.
|At least she didn't purchase a ten dollar app like last time this happened.|
Last week two of my Mommy friends came over with their children for a play-date. 18-month-old twin boys and two 17-month-old girls created a predictable cyclone of toys in Clara's room. Us parents laughed as they pulled out every toy and book they could get their hands on, regarding it for mere seconds before tossing it in the growing pile in order to get something else. Billie was digging around in Clara's crate of Duplos, pulling them out piece by piece with laser concentration. That is, until her mother Sindy remarked in surprise: "Oh what's this?" She reached over to Billie and pulled a perfectly preserved, dessicated Baby Carrot out of her daughter's tiny fist.
My first reaction was to be completely mortified - what kind of mother was I? The kind that left a baby carrot mummify in the toy box? But instead I just laughed. Maybe Clara thought she would save that carrot for later...a month and a half ago. Or maybe she has a squirrel's instinct to bury food for the winter. Either way I think I can place the blame squarely on my almost 18-month-old. At least the floor was vacuumed.
I swear that Clara grows an inch a day. She has figured out that she can stand on tiptoes and run her hands over tabletops to see what kind of treasures her little hands can grab and pull down for a look-see. She is also determined to bounce across the couch and try to pull ornaments off our tabletop tree. And let me tell you people...as sad as I was to get a tiny tree this year, I am so happy not to have to contend with the smackdown that would occur between Clara and a giant tree resting in a stand on the floor. Because believe you me, by the end of that battle Clara would be left standing (albeit covered in sap and probably wearing the tree skirt on her head) in the smoking pile of rubble that would be the toppled tree, broken ornaments, and billions of pine needle that had been ripped of the branches.
So far this Christmas, Tabletop Tree - 1, Clara - 0.