Sunday, May 5, 2013

Doing Her Thang

"Is she a Taurus?" asks the lady at the dog park?

"No, but if you're referring to her headstrong ways, well that's just Z, all zodiac reference aside."

Little Lady is 23 months now and she is all over the map. A whirling dervish of words, movement, and verve, if you will. A definite leader who knows what she wants. Completely fearless. Shows genuine concern for others, including her winter coat. Identifies needs ("Bear needs his diaper changed.") and equally tells you what you need to do, like "Stand up." Has not yet discovered her Indoor Voice. Particular about food, but loves strange ones.

The best thing about kids is that they inject so many hilarious situations into your life that were previously filled with...who knows, white noise?

Case in point:
She and I go to Home Depot to buy a quart of paint. The greeter is handing out balloons. After Z makes it abundantly clear that I was not to tie the balloon to anything (wrist, jacket zipper, shopping cart) while she held it--which as we know is going to last about 30 seconds before worst case helium scenario ensues--I valiantly save the rogue balloon that has slipped from her grip (did I call it??) through a very athletic vertical jump-and-grab. Alas, I could not repeat this ad nauseum and the balloon ultimately ends up on the ceiling 45 seconds later. Tears. Balloon #2. No longer crying but WET eyes. We leave the store and the balloon accompanies her in the back seat, very much within her grasp. BUT STILL TEARS. Why??? Carry screaming child and balloon and can of paint into the house. Balloon string is not long enough to both be on ceiling and in her hand. Tears. Tell her that balloon is going to take a nap in my closet. Solemn, tacit comprehension and acceptance. She approaches balloon, gives it a very serious kiss on the string. "Bye balloon!! See ya!"

And to think I could have just gone to Home Depot and bought a can of paint. BOR-ing. 

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