Who Put the Blow in Her Applesauce?

If I didn’t know better, I’d think someone slipped a Starbucks into C’s sippy cup. Actually, it’s more like blow in her applesauce.

This 23 month old girl DOES. NOT. STOP. It’s continual movement every waking hour (and she has more waking hours than the average toddler). You can’t just let her play with a toy because she throws it down the stairs, or at her brother’s head. You can’t just let her play in the living room because she sticks things in the air conditioner, the heater, the DVD player. You can’t just let her color or paint because she’ll show her artistic talent on the floor, the walls, and the furniture, not to mention her hair, face, limbs, and clothes.

It feels like I spend my day dodging bullets at my feet. Dance mutha, dance!

My first child was the complete opposite and even now he is cautious and conservative. And he’s getting the short end of the stick these days as I’m completely worn out and overwhelmed by his little sister.

Tonight is C’s first night in her “big girl bed.” I settled her in with stuffed animals and blankies, then we read a few books. Lights off and a little cuddling… or so was the plan. Instead, she climbed me like a jungle gym. She sang the Barney song (”I love you, you love me…”) over and over, louder and louder. She talked to herself. This went on for over an hour. I left the room and she cried, “Mommy come lie down bed!” I’d come back to rub her back and settle her and the whole thing started again.

Of course, it will take her a week or so to adjust to the new bed. But it’s just one more thing I have to juggle. One more bullet to dodge.