They grow up so fast...

I know - way to start a post with a total cliche, right? It's so true though. Every time I lift Violet out of her crib in the morning, she's grown a little bigger, her eyes look a little wiser. She's growing up so fast. We've swiftly entered into that part of toddlerdom where she wants to do everything. her. SELF!

We hear, "Me!!!!" on a regular basis. It's definitely her new favorite word (which I much prefer to its predecessor - 'No!') (One day I tried to count which word she said more - 'No!' or 'Moooooommmmmmy' I eventually lost count at some ridiculously high number and gave up).

"Me!" she shrieks as I attempt to dress her in the morning (she tries to wiggle her head through the arm hole of her shirt and pull both legs through the same pant hole.) "Me!" she cries when I mix up her formula in her sippy cup. (She knows to tap her sippy cup in between each scoop to help it settle.) "Meee!" she squeals when I cook her eggs in the morning. (She likes to scramble them with the spatula.) And...well, you get the idea.

She also has a complete and total fascination with babies. She loves her baby dolls (all FOUR of them) - changing their diapers, feeding them bottles, burping them. Yesterday her babysitter took her to visit a friend in the maternity ward who had just had a baby. "More, more! Bay-beee!" She yelled as her sitter held her up to the nursery window. And she's amazed by the fact that her aunt has a baby in her belly. When my sister shows her her bump, Violet looks down at her own belly and smooths her shirt with a look of fascination and awe.

She's also become quite the little "mother". She likes to help both her daddy and me put on our shoes and 'tie' them (which basically involves a lot of random twisting of the shoestrings). Feeding mommy and daddy is another great game, and in the bathtub she loves to wash her baby's hair as I wash hers. And on the (quite frequent) occasion that she follows me into the bathroom, she gets so upset when she can't help me wipe my bottom. Yes, Violet, I do wipe your bottom but that's one place you just don't reciprocate. Sorry babe.

She even helped her Grammy to make some pot pie noodles from scratch the other day when the Hubster and I were both deathly ill with a stomach bug. Sure, more flour may have ended up on her than on the table, but I swear the noodles were extra tasty, because they were made with love.

We love our little big helper.


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