There are days when I get to work at noon, and work seems like a blessed relief from the chaos of a morning at home. Today is one of those days.
Norah can probably best be described as "active." Ever since she learned to crawl, she's always been into every. single. thing. As a baby, she pulled open every drawer, every cabinet, pulled every item off every shelf she could reach. Now, her quests are more focused -- less pulling EVERY thing out and more pulling KEY things out -- and, typically, when it's quiet I know to worry.
For instance, this morning:
I found her standing on the office chair with a pair of scissors. She had them poised next to her hair. Jerry recently trimmed her bangs, so she gets the gist: Scissors are for cutting hair. Apparently, she was going to style her own.
She asked me for some jelly beans, which were in a bowl on the kitchen counter. I told her "no." I'd already allowed her 4 jelly beans, which was her reward (ie, "bribe") for sitting good while I trimmed her fingernails. A few minutes later, I'm feeding Caleb a bottle, and I see her scurry by, carrying her stepstool. I interrupt Caleb's feeding, and go see what she's up to. Stepstool is up against the kitchen counter, and she's up there, helping herself to those jelly beans. Rascal!
There were a lot of tears shed and a very dramatic scene in which she threw herself to the floor when I jelly-bean-blocked her again.
Lastly, a few minutes before leaving the house, she proudly walked up to me, patted her jeans' pocket and exclaimed: "Norah has pockets!" Me: "Yes, you have pockets. Do you have anything IN your pockets?" Her: "Yes!" Me: "Well, what's in there? Let Mom see." She produces the following: A piece of trash, a quarter, and...a condom!
Eek gad! I thought it's be YEARS before we had to worry about finding condoms in her pockets!