We’ve turned the coffee table (actually an old steamer trunk) up on its side and pushed it against the sofa. That way, Violet is not tall enough to climb on it… yet. Yes, the climbing has begun. I have visions of tiny bodies flinging themselves off countertops onto tile floors. The kid has no concept of gravity. She’ll gleefully walk right off the edge of the bed without a second thought. And no amount of Menacing Mommy will keep her from scaling whatever heights her stubby legs will allow. Thus, the upturned coffee table. Could I use this as an argument with the future 15 year old Violet? “Sweetie, when you were tiny, you had no idea that walking down stairs without bending your knees would lead to a cracked skull. Your synapses had just not made those connections yet. And that’s why you can’t understand how dropping out of school to start a band is not a good idea right now. Okay?”
Meanwhile, signing is increasingly more fun and useful. When Uncle Joe is babysitting she explains when she would like to drink “milk”, or “eat” a snack, or “more” of either. She tells us when she wants to “swing”, or when she’s “all done” and wants “down” (I really wish she’d start using “up” though, rather than grabbing my leg and wailing pitifully). She lets me know I’m putting on my “shoes”, that there are “fish” in the water and that it’s a tad “windy”, “cold”, “hot” or something “hurts”. She loves to play with her “ball” and incurs my wrath when she yanks a “flower” off the plants. Apa will be pleased to know she announces that there is an “airplane” flying overhead anytime she hears one.
As far as actual speaking, she has rediscovered the “g” sound. So babbling is a little more varied. Still likes “hi, idea” though. But she’s quite fond of explaining what a dog says (grunt grunt grunt) and what a kitty says (“mawm mawm”) and what a bird says (a kind of high pitched noise that has no onomatopoeia). Still, sometimes I get the feeling she’s only doing it to humor me, and wondering why her mommy is so dumb that she can’t remember what a fricken bird says.
Oh, and she got her fifth skinned knee today. Nobody ever told me you can’t keep a band-aid on a toddler. What are you supposed to do about that?