Not only is she full of herself, she has the energy of two two year olds. I love it. It is summertime and we spend our days (when it is not too breezy like it has been the past two days) at the pool running up and down and up and down and up .... and down. Eventually, she makes a timid step to the “loder” and says “kik kik an-ew” on repeat until she has enough courage to actually kick like Andrew.
Yesterday, it was just slap too chilly to be in the water. Husband was post call, and we needed to fill our morning before filling our afternoon. So, we made carrot pudding (don’t knock it. It’s not like it’s celery soup) and Eileen cracked the eggs in her hands, poured the flour on the counter and licked the brown sugar off her fingers. Husband came home early and, literally, fell asleep eating lunch at the table, holding Eileen.
Sweeping him to the bedroom for a few zzzzzzs, Eileen looked at me and said, “shhh, da-dee night night,” in a whisper with a finger to her lips. Of course, this followed with, “LALALALA Coooook? COOOKA?” meaning, “hey-mom. seriously. cookie. now.”
Wait... I missed a chain of events. This is not where I was going. Backing up....
Where was I? Right... egg cracking.
She cracks the eggs, we mix everything together & pop it in the oven for an hour. A bing bong on the computer alerts us that we have a package and what a package it was! Clothes! Clothes! Clothes! A phone call to my SIL bragging about my purchases and a promise of pictures- we’re off. On the bed, I flip E out of her knock arounds to her first outfit.
Off with the old and on with the new, with little wrestling and lots of giggling.
Third outfit on. Second outfit tossed.
Fourth and final on. Third outfit, shmird outfit.
The photo shoot was E jumping up and down and me catching her and (essentially) flipping her upside down to change her clothes. On the fourth outfit, she wrestled away and jumped jumped jumped her way into the pillows of the bed, where she became tangled in an invisible tanglier and went splat into the solid wood headboard. Instantly screaming, instantly cut, instantly bloody, instantly marked with two very prominent war wounds by her eye and on the bridge of her nose, perfectly in line with each other.
So, this is why our parents did not let us jump on the bed. Oh....