Eve of Destruction

What happened to my sweet baby??  I would say that the "terrible twos" have arrived with reinforcements, but I have a problem with "terrible".  I prefer "delightfully naughty".  Because even at her worst, I think she's delightful.  But boy is she a lot of work.  Among her favorite new phrases is "You like a baby!" which in our house full of big, independent girls is the biggest slam and insult imaginable.  The classic "No!" is used frequently and usually paired with "I won't!" or "thank you!".  That's right.  "NO THANK YOU!".  At least she is naughty, defiant AND polite.  =-)

This morning she nicely asked if I would paint her nails.  So I did while emphasizing that "big girl princesses with painted nails go potty in the potty chair" and she seemed to agree.  We put on some Oomie Zoomie while her polish dried.  I answered a phone call.  I checked my email.  I noticed Eva was not where I left her.  I found her in the bathroom painting her whole princess with pink nail polish.

Yesterday she conned me into letting her out of the stroller at JCPenny and then she took off at a dead toddler sprint across the store.  I lost sight of her while trying to give chase with the stroller and a bunch of clothes and shopping bags.  When I located her, crouched beneath the girl's plus size dresses at the other end of the store, I gave her the big "YOU DON'T RUN AWAY FROM MOMMY", buckled her into the stroller and had to listen to her scream, "I want my DADDEEEEE!" all the way through the checkout.

Want more?  She ate a tube of toothpaste before one of the sister's caught her.  She said those three little words every mom loathes;  "I poopoo floor."  She dumped half a bag of cat food in the general area of the cat's food dish.  She stuck an opened peanut butter and jelly sandwich to the wall.  She's a boomerang at bedtime.  She screams anytime you approach a TV with a remote when she's watching Dora.  She pushes her cousin Iris down, just to watch her fall.  She bucks and arches whenever you attempt to buckle her into her carseat.  She could qualify for the Olympics in the 5 meter run-from-mommy dash.  She yells, "I mad!" and throws things.

And she wakes me up every morning by perching at the foot of the bed as silently as she can muster, with a big grin on her face.  She says "Oh, I so happy!" and "Howdy!".  She calls me "Pincess Mommy".  She is feisty and busy, naughty and nice, and I love her from her runny nose down to her overly painted toes!