Today, I decided to take a rest day. I had run the past 3 days in a row, and for me, lately, that's a significant little streak, and I needed/wanted the rest day. So, without any running to regale you of, I figure I'd share a little glimpse into my life with Norah -- ie, I shall label this anecdote "Naked Narrative."
At 2 years old, Norah is a combination of hysterical cuteness and maddening frustration. This is an example of such a combo:
She likes to be naked, apparently.
She's gotten pretty good at stripping herself and then streaking through the house in the nude. This morning, for instance, I went in the kitchen long enough to rinse out my coffee cup and in that 1 minute or so, I came back into the living room to discover her completely undressed.
Now, on the one hand, I think that a giggling, naked 2 year old is probably one of THE reasons I wanted to have children in the first place. It's just dang amusing. I mean, c'mon, who doesn't find a 2 year old's chubby little butt cheeks adorable and humorous?!
On the other hand, it's funny until you're trying to get her dressed again. I actually would just let her chill out in the buff if she were fully potty trained -- what does a naked kid in the house matter? -- but because she's not fully potty trained, a naked little girl means that, inevitably, pee puddles are gonna be right around the corner for me to (literally) step and slip in. So, once she's naked, it's maybe a few minutes of enchantment and being caught up in her free-spirited charm, and then comes the ugly task of chasing her down and wrestling her into a diaper and clothes.
The best comparison I can give is that it's like trying to stuff a squirming, wet octopus into shorts and a t-shirt: It feels like she has twice as many limbs, and no matter how dry she is, she's a slippery little beast!
It doesn't help that the Laws of Parenthood dictate that such dressing will be accompanied by her LOUD protests, Caleb will chose that moment to start crying, and a FedEx truck will drive by so Scooter will start howling. Such a symphony of noise always makes me immediately lose my sh*t; I typically think of myself as being pretty patient, but when 2 kids are crying simultaneously and the dog is baying, I feel like my brains are gonna explode with frustration.
Then, finally, she's re-clothed and re-diapered; Caleb is soothed, and Scooter is reprimanded, and I'm sweaty and a little psychotic.
Then...a few minutes later, I find the whole exhausting business humorous again!