on parenting, currently

Something I adore about parenting thus far is the ever changing motion of the whole endeavor. Our darling 15 month old has already dipped her toe into the realm of tantrums and potty training. She has come full circle back to adoring bath time (and protesting its end after 45 minutes of tepid water play). She finds sincere enjoyment at putting things away- board books back on their shelves, shoes matched and in line, empty yogurt containers into the recycling bin. She takes multi-step directions (can you pick that cucumber up and put it back?) and just recently fell in love with coloring. She loves to pick tomatoes in the garden and smell flowers (or, even more so, hops!). She is fiercely independent about feeding herself and has started to let little words out, but not consistently- "hi," "Layla!," "mama." One constant for the last six months or so has been Alice's dreamy sleep schedule. She takes two naps a day, each is two to three hours long, plus she clocks a solid 11+ hours of sleep at night. Dream-y.

So, that potty training and bath time I mentioned? Oh. My. Gosh. What a night we had. Alice was laughing so hard in the tub last night- hysterical over splashing me and getting me wet- that she pooped in the tub. She didn't even realize because of her own overwhelming laughter. Of course, I stole her right out of the the beloved tub to clean up the situation, placing her on the potty to continue. She did NOT like the change of scenery, but sure enough went #2 on the potty for the second time in her little life and we both applauded. Soon after, the tub was clean, so back in she went. We re-sudsed, were soon back to splashing and, I kid you not, she again laughed so hard that she pooped even more. You have got to be kidding me. So, again, I swooped her out of the tub and she was having it even less this go around. At this point, I was cleaning more watery poo out of both tub and bath toys, while Alice cried and ran around our kitchen naked. When the tub was finally cleaned up again I plucked her, naked and crying, off the stair landing, and put her in the tub one last time for a quick shower and scrub (because, poop).

Needless to say, she and I were both a bit, ahem, pooped by the end of the entire clownish ordeal: three baths, three poops, so much laughing and crying. She mostly cuddled for the final half hour before going to bed.

And still, bodily functions aside, this is the best. best. best gift in the whole wide world- to be this little love's mama, even when she leaves a bruised bite mark on my neck for taking her out of the tub again. I'll take so many more bites- except, no I won't, we're working on that,- and so much more #2 in the tub- again, not really, we're working on that too,- and savor every hilarious moment with our girl. Favorite age so far? Every. Single. One. Though, 15 months is ranking quite high on the list.