Thursday, December 15, 2016

Penelope: whoa, doggie.

Penelope at 19 months is.... well she's very entertaining. She's also very challenging and I don't know if I had repressed what this age was really like or if she's just so much harder than Olivia and Jackson were. Granted, I was working full time back then so I really only had to deal with them a little in the morning, and a little in the evening, and then weekends. My mom handled the brunt of them so perhaps I should ask her.

Every day it's an absolute adventure. Almost every day she wakes up with a massive poop and it's really the worst way to start your day. I've started putting a gate in front of her door after being woken up to her holding her pooping diaper, inches from my face. I figure it's just best to keep that kind of potential disaster contained as possible.
She climbs on everything. She opens everything, she pulls everything out, she is an absolute menace.
She wanders around our house carrying random objects, oftentimes dropping food, and banging into walls, cabinets, appliances, chairs, etc and then screaming at us like it's our fault she's essentially a drunk toddler.
Penelope has also learned how to take her clothes off on her own and no matter how cold it is, this child is either topless or pantsless, and often not wearing socks. She's really got a thing against socks. You'd think this would be a positive step towards potty training, but she doesn't really give a damn about being in a gross diaper.
This face? Is a very accurate depiction of what living with her is like. She is hilarious, she can be so much fun and a total goofball but make you so angry. She does things that send you over the damn edge and then gives you a hug. She really is a sweetheart when she wants to be.
But this face? This face is what life is like 98% of the time. Often by bedtime (which is 6pm folks, and she sleeps in until 7am, usually) we have all broken down into tears. Here she's climbed into her high chair around 4 (her way of demanding the dinner be served right now), in tears, picking her nose, completely disheveled, and wearing a shirt a friend gave her that shares the sentiment I say to myself every day while I'm trying to burn food as fast possible.

Good gravy.

1 comment:

Julie H said...

Ha! She'll probably be a great teenager :)