One of the many signs that LG is growing up (she turns 2 in less than a month) is the fact that she wants to help with everything. In some cases, it means we actually get stuff done (marginally) faster, like when she wants to help put her diapers away. It other cases, it's something you put up with because it keeps her occupied and happy, and maybe you can actually make dinner while she's pretending to chop a tomato with a butter knife. In the best scenario, it's really cool, because it lets us share activities that I already enjoy. It gives me hope that we can come to enjoy these activities together, especially once she's a little more coordinated.
In nearly every case, though, it makes a huge mess.
Take this muffin adventure from two weeks ago.
Center bottom: "No, I don't know why Dad is wearing a v-neck to make muffins."
See those dishes in the sink? Yeah, like 90 percent of them were from muffin making. Between giving LG her own bowl of ingredients for every step and trying to prevent cross-contamination with eggs, I think we used half the Gladware and bowls in the kitchen.
That said, this was a lot of fun for all concerned. LG loves wearing her apron, so giving her a valid excuse to do so rather than just letting her wear it around the house is always a plus. (Hat tip to the Sreholser's for the good Captain.) If memory serves, she was actually a bit cranky before we decided to bake, and the act of helping out actually calmed her down.
The below video may be a bit on the long side, but it's amazing (to me, at least) how calm she stayed during the whole thing. I took implements out of her hand, kept eggs away from her, and she still took it all in stride because the whole process was just so interesting to her.
Side note: Pardon my attire. I had just gotten home from work, and we decided to do this right before bed. Easier to just doff the dress shirt than change clothes, given the time constraints.
Then there are one-off tasks, which in the below instance wasn't really a task we were actively engaged in. She just wanted to sweep.
I really enjoy the sidelong glance she's giving the broom, like she just doesn't trust it. Neither do I, sweetie. Neither do I.
The day after the muffins, we got some corn at the farmers market. I have fond memories of shucking corn with my brothers in our garage when I was young, although I remember being really bad at it. I guess this is a bone to pick with my Dad. Why did it take me so long to shuck corn?
If I had to guess, I'd say it's because I did it the same way LG is attempting: a single layer of husk at a time. All the more reason to get her started early, so by age 6 or so, she can do it by herself, quickly.
Please note our choice of age-appropriate pop culture t-shirts.
I won't embed the video of the corn shucking, but you're welcome to check it out on our YouTube Channel. Feel free to hum the corn-shuckin' folk song of your choice while watching.
More recently, LG helped out in the kitchen at Hollie's parents' house. While she spent equal time eating pepperoni as actually helping, she certainly enjoyed splashing tomato sauce all over these pizzas.
Guess how many toddler handsful of cheese it takes to cover a pizza. Answer: Way more than I have the patience for. That's why Hollie and Aunt Heather helped her on this one.
Other activities she wants to help with:
- Walking the dog: For which I need to use the extra-long leash so I have room to hold the middle so Lola doesn't drag LG down the sidewalk.
- Selecting produce at the supermarket: Okay, so I select the produce. But I do let her put it in the bag. Anything to keep her in the cart.
- Wiping her tray after dinner: She barely lets us clean her face after any given meal, but give her the wet washcloth afterward, and she'll wipe all manner of smeared apple sauce, yogurt or mushed peas off of her tray. Granted, most of this ends up on the floor, but that's when the dog helps out.
LG's mama here. I have been bugging Matt to make a list of all the funny things LG has been doing recently so we don't forget them. She's turning into a little person right before our eyes, with full sentences and opinions and an imagination. I'm afraid she'll grow out of these particular toddler-isms soon, and we won't remember them. He then suggested (rightfully so) that I record them in the blog, so here we are. In no particular order, here are some of the completely endearing things LG has been doing lately:
Oranges
LG knows all of her colors--not puce or chartreuse, but the biggies. She sometimes confuses black and white, which I like to attribute to the fact that she is unconcerned with the racial divide that still plagues this country, but for the most part, she nails it. However, nothing is ever "orange." Ask her what color her orange hat is. "Oranges." What about Zoe from Sesame street? "Oranges." Oranges? "Oranges." It is the sweetest thing in the world, and it's contagious as Matt and I have started using the plural for the color, too.
These flowers? Oranges.
Okay
Up until recently, LG never said "yes." Her responses to our never-ending questions where either an emphatic no or silence. Silence was obviously affirmative, so we went with it. She does actually say yes on occasion now, but more often than not, we get an "okay." Here is an example of a line of questioning that makes me laugh every time:
LG: Have it! (pointing to Matt's bagel and shaking her hands as if to imply that if she does not get the bagel in the next 10 seconds we'll regret it for the next 10 years.) Me: Do you want a piece of Daddy's bagel? LG: Okay. (said as if the sharing of the bagel was an unexpected but perfectly acceptable idea that Mommy came up with all on her own. A tiny toddler shrug is implied.) END SCENE
Give the dog a bone
LG knows lots of dogs: a beagle named Kola, a shih tzu named Chewie, a boxer named Chloe and, of course, Lola. She likes them all well enough. She's not all love them and kiss them and hug them and squeeze then and call them George about it like some kids, but she likes them. There is a pretty adorable trend though. When she's not around a particular dog for a while, she becomes very concerned about whether or not said dog has a bone. For example, if you're talking about how she's going to Connecticut to visit Kristen and Don, she asks about Chewie. Once you let her know that, yes, she will see Chewie, she asks in a voice dripping with anxiety: "Bone????" She relaxes a little when you assure her that Kristen and Don would not deny this poor dog his bone. Then the calming mantra of "Chewie has a bone" begins.
Toddler Loops
Doing silly things over and over again is not LG-specific. Toddlers are masters of the loop. However, there are two baffling loops she gets into. One may be my fault. I once took two cups and knocked their ends together and said the fateful phrase "Clippity Clop." Now, it's like a never-ending Monty Python skit in our house.* Everything must be shoved onto/into one's hands and made to go "Clippity Clop." Cups, blocks, dinosaurs, anything. Mama must do it. Daddy must do it. All. the. time. The other loop is totally Matt's fault. One evening Matt made a game of letting LG shuffle away from him and pulling her back into his lap with a "No, no, no" to emphasize that her attempts at escape are futile. Giggling ensues and all is right with our little family unit. Sounds fun, right? Less fun the 15th time she has dragged you to the living room demanding the "Nonono" game. She even recognizes that, by the 6th time, we're not into it because she stops really trying to get away because she knows we'll let her.
Don't even get me started on the hokey pokey. Or, rather, don't get her started on the hokey pokey. We'll be turning ourselves around all night.
I heart nature
This one is a point of personal pride with me. Kid loves touching bugs and will talk about all buggie encounters for days. LG's retelling of an encounter with a pillbug was filled with flapping arms and wiggling fingers, breathless excitement, and shouts of "UP MY ARM!" in full voice. LG is usually very gentle and not at all squeamish. She can also identify by name with some consistency robins, doves, geese, cardinals, blue jays, parrots, ducks, chickadees, and chickens. For the record (because I will forget) she's been naming these birds for months now.
The aforementioned pillbug. UP MY ARM!
(Notice the cup on her hand. That was a "Clippity Clop moment in progress.)
And, I may have mentioned it before, LG calls seeds "baby trees."
I can say without hyperbole that that may be the single cutest thing ever released into the interwebs.
Running and jumping
It may come as a surprise to our friends and family that Matt and I may not have produced the most athletically gifted child. With his estimated Little League average at .050 and my two big points spanning my basketball career, LG will most likely not be a professional athlete. We've come to terms with it. Plus, if she was physically adept, I would not have the joy I feel every time I see this kid run and jump. Jumping only recently involves her feet leaving the ground, which is a step above the stage where she shouted "jump," but only simulated actually jumping with her upper body. You know when a gymnast takes that big stutter step after a particularly complicated vault that causes the whole arena to gasp? That's every hop for LG. However, the running is the best. I will be very sad when LG starts running like an actual human being. The poetry that is all of her limbs moving in opposite directions when she tries to run defies description, but since this is a blog I'll try. It's like a crab is simultaneously trying to swat away a fly and rumba... but with some forward thrust. Can't visualize it? This video may help a bit, but you really should see it in person. It's amazing.
All in all, there is way too much that she does every day that makes me laugh to include here. So, as a parting gift, a portrait:
