Cyborg?

Today was our four-month anniversary of bringing Jarrah home (could I acknowledge any more anniversaries? I guess that's what people do when they don't even know their child's birthday for certain) and she celebrated by being frighteningly adorable all day. Well, except for the incident involving a pile of human waste on the floor of her room this morning when I made a two minute phone call. But calling in the Haz Mat team (that would be me with a whole lot of Clorox) was a small price to pay for the pernicious cuteness to follow.

We spent a happy hour climbing on and off the armchair and bursting forth from behind the curtains with big laughs. Then she let me know it was time for her nap (!), grinned sweetly when I put her in her crib (!!), and then snoozed fretlessly for over two hours. She rose in a peachy mood when my friend Renee arrived to take us to lunch, and looked like a Hawaiian princess in her new tropical outfit courtesy of her Auntie Jen. At Soup Plantation, she mystified me by accepting several wands of squash (instead of her usual fusilli) to snack on in line, and then proceeded to eat her lunch without doing any of the following: messing up the floor, peeling up her placemat, covering herself in sauce and melon, or "Ma-MA-ing!" when I ate my frozen yogurt. Those are the things she did NOT do. What she DID do was behave like a little lady, sitting up straight in her high chair, eating all her lunch, and actually allowing Renee and I to finish sentences.

I might have thought she wasn't quite well except she was extremely cheerful when we got to Target, requested that Renee carry her, and then quietly followed us around the store with kicky little steps when we let her walk. And when we got home and it was time to do the hand-over to Daddy so Renee and I could leave for NIA, she asked me to pick her up, gave me a huge, huge hug and several kisses, and waved bye-bye with a beautiful smile. I tell you, Readers, I was in love. ;) It was hard to believe this was the same child who had me at my wit's end just a few days ago. I guess that's just one of the amazing things about toddlers--they keep you guessing. Maybe when Mark Twain said "If you don't like the weather in New England, just wait a minute." he was actually thinking of a one-year-old.