She's a climber, too. Anything, any time, anywhere. The girl has NO FEAR. I'm not exactly sure what her intent was in the picture below, but I do know that she moved that little white chair all the way across the kitchen and got herself up on top of it...and then just waited for us to notice her before breaking into a big ol' grin. She's a hot mess.
She loves making us laugh and will do just about anything to get a giggle from somebody. I often turn around and find her in Thatcher's bouncy seat with a pacifier stuck upside-down in her mouth. Or sitting on top of Harris' bed wearing his glow-in-the-dark LED mohawk headband. Or on the seat of a race car video game steering the wheel at a restaurant. Or digging in the snack box looking for whatever she decides she'd like to eat: cheerios, nutrigrain bars, and raisins are among the top choices.
She waves and says, "bye" and blows kisses, loves to play with balls (and will say "ball"), barks like a dog, dances on command or when she hears music, will call out for "Ma Ma" and "Da Da" and can also say her own version of "Harris" and "Thatcher," loves clapping and cheering at Harris' baseball games, will sing "Ba Ba Ba Ba Ba" if she hears us singing The Beach Boys' "Barbara Ann" (as well as the minion version from Despicable Me), does whatever she can to take care of her baby brother (rocking him, wiping his face, bringing him a paci, covering him up, carrying the bottle bag to and from Ginnell's), and loves to wear hats or other crazy accessories just to get a rise out of us.
She imitates everything: washing hands, brushing teeth, drying hair, typing on the computer, drinking out of cups...the girl pays attention and then turns around and appropriately uses (or attempts to use) the most random things. Coloring/writing/drawing are still big favorites of hers.
She is little. And she is feisty. And she's growing up way too fast.
I love this crazy life.