Wednesday, August 4, 2010

The many loves of Mary Clare

The girl has some definite ideas about what she likes. No idea where she gets that. While you ponder that, mom, the rest of you can check out Mary Clare's current faves.

Puzzles rule Mary Clare's world, and therefore, our world. Get one down, do it. Go to the shelf with the Paw Paw-made puzzle box, point and say "More. More. More." until someone gets another one.

Repeat. And repeat. And repeat. And pray that Grandma finds some puzzles that don't have animals on them, because you are completely tired of making duck, cow and pig noises.

She's obsessed. I am on board with this one when it relates to her shoes. When she gets up in the morning, she looks over at her dresser, points at that day's ensemble and says, "Shoesh. Bow."

Hell yeah, you know I love hearing that.

What I don't love is that she is obsessed with our shoes as well. She doesn't want to wear them so much as she wants to make sure that we are wearing them.

Do you kn
ow how annoying it is to be chased around the house by a toddler waving flip-flops and shrieking "Shoesh! Shoesh! Shoesh!" and throwing them at your feet the second she has you cornered? Or how after wearing heels all day, you just want to give your bare tootsies a rest, and there she is, blocking the door with a leopard print flat in one hand and a red patent heel in the other, demanding that you wear them?

Up them, down them she goes, but most certainly not on her hands and knees. She will haul herself up to the second floor, grunting the entire time like she is in a physical therapy session being led by a very demanding German woman.

And on shorter staircases, she will grab a rail and walk down facing forward. And she won't pay attention to the steps, because she is too busy staring at us with her defiant eyes. At times, she will do us the honor of holding our hand, but that's about it. She is far too grown up for our baby ways, thankyouverymuch.

The girl loves herself some H20.
Her teachers say she loves to mix it up with the boys on Water Wednesdays, and I certainly have no trouble getting her to wash her hands at home. Which is definitely nice.

What isn't nice is being the one who denies her access to water. Trust me, you don't want to be the one saying no to the hose, watering can, puddle or sink. And when it comes to bath time, she'll just sit there until every last drop has gone down the drain. Which she has also learned to close, in order to further prolong the bathing process.

Mary Clare is growing attached to her baby dolls, of which we have two, Stella and Bitsy. I love watching her tear around the house with her stroller, and I will admit that it melts my heart when she gives her baby a kiss or covers her up and says "Nigh, nigh."

But then she'll shot put Stella across the room or stuff her in her stroller headfirst, snapping me right out of my American Girl doll reverie. And if we ask her to be gentle with her baby, we just get a look. No one - I repeat, no one - will tell Mary Clare how to raise her babies. No one.

1 comment:

  1. Haha, shoes. Can you believe that-its starting so early, that love of shoes. :)


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