My baby is growing up; rapidly becoming a little girl. A little big girl. She is learning at an astronomical rate. Everyday brings new real english words (todays word of the day – ketchup) and new acrobatic moves; all wonderful surprises.
This weekend, she decided she is much too old to be fed dinner. She can do it herself now, thank you very much. Oh, and bibs are for babies (which she is not). Eirinn prefers not to wear one, as she is far too mature (by ‘prefers not’, I mean she screams bloody murder as the bib approaches, rips it from her neck, and heaves it onto the floor).
She fed herself mashed potatoes and yogurt and was pretty good at it for her first try. Tonight she tried shepherd’s pie. She is also brushing her own teeth, brushing her own hair (what little of it she has – stop laughing, she’s not bald), and walking, not crawling, up and down stairs just holding our hand.
If I wasn’t so darn proud of every new skill she learns, I would be sad about losing my baby.