Pictures, please

RR is discovering all sorts of things about herself. A few days ago, she informed us she was a “genius.” I assure you that we don’t tell her any such thing but when I asked who told her that she was decidedly mum.

“Who told you you were a genius, baby?”
Glaring at me with the fire of a thousand suns, “I’m a genius, mama. I YAM.”

Yesterday, she spent more than an hour playing in the sandbox, far away from us. We were rocking in the porch swing (though it is actually on the lawn. yard swing?) wondering what she was doing so quietly. When D walked over to usher her to bed, it turned out that she was burying and unburying a stick. For an hour.

“Whatcha doing R?”
This. Apparently.



Most of our friends with kids RR’s age mention that their kids are thinking about/actually climbing out of their cribs. Not only is our crib only on the middle setting, prying RR out of it is like climbing Mt. Everest. You’re going to need oxygen. And a strong sherpa.

However, yesterday I found her climbing IN to her crib. She was stuck, one leg over and hanging four feet from the floor.  “I need to sleep, mama. Get me in my bed pees.” Given that she is still clocking 12 hours at night and three hour naps on weekends, I’m wondering why on earth we’d ever have another.

We haven’t been taking many pictures lately because they all turn out like this:

DSC_0037Her ability to lap a Formula One car is impressive. Especially when she’s A) in the kidnapping mall (Yes, there was. In broad daylight. No, he didn’t get away. Yes, he was released.) or B) aimed at the nearest stream of traffic.

She’s so big and long I find myself wondering where my toddler went. She’s not three until June but she’s all gangly legs and wiry arms. Strong as can be (exhibit one: climbing into crib and onto railings over steep drop offs) and charming to boot (exhibit two: her diligent use of please, thank you, and excuse me, especially when she’s preparing to leap blindly from some wobbly wall into a thorny bush). But she says she’s a genius, by god, and I’ll give it to her. After all, you can’t argue with something moving at the speed of light.



8 Responses

  1. She’s adorable and hysterical. And, clearly, a genius. Please send her to our house to give lectures on sleeping. Our Trudy will also be 3 in June, but came in at 4:30 this morning to tell us that the birds weren’t singing yet, but when they do, “people get up.”

    • This is exactly why I’m waiting as long as possible to move her to a bed! That and the need to practice her trampoline skills on every bouncy surface.

  2. Our Christmas card the year my girl was three was a montage of blurry shots like the middle one in this post. They really were the best shots we had.
    It’s quite obvious she’s a genius. And a cute one to boot.

  3. I love this. And man – she does look TALL! What a big girl she is now.

  4. What a sweetie! My kids often use words that they’ve heard, but don’t quite know the meaning. So, I’d ask her “What is a genius?” Sometimes they answer with extremely entertaining and creative interpretations!

  5. I agree with Jill, adorable is just the right term for her. Or perhaps genius? Super cute!

  6. My son called himself a freaking genius around RR’s age. A few years later, I pretty much agree with his assesment. He amazes me with his detailed memory.

    RR is such a cutie of a whirlwind!

Comments are closed.

%d bloggers like this: