Delaney's 1st birthday has come & gone and Emme's 4th is only days away.
The big girl has increasingly become more & more independent and the little one has taken notice. The little things Emme used to call on me to help her with, she now completes with ease (or without reminder). A pit stop during play, no problem. Brushing her teeth morning & night, she's got it covered. Seasonally appropriate attire, she gets it (although refuses to agree with it for fashion sake every now & again). I watch her with pride and a little pout - time has just slipped away. But with Emme's new found independence comes new lessons for the momma to learn.
The latest lesson, how to discipline a four year old who thinks she is 9 years old. Luckily, the counting method has proven to be pretty effective. 1,2,3 - you're out. Lord knows how many times a day I count. A handful? A couple dozen? Who knows. All I know is that if things are turning sour, the numbers begin to roll off my tongue.
This evening, Delaney was "helping" me clean up the kitchen after dinner. With Delaney perched on my hip, I pushed the chairs back under the kitchen table. Delaney's loveys (blankets) were draped over the back of her chair. I picked one up and tossed it over my shoulder, counting, "One." I picked up the second lovey and before I could speak, Delaney's squeaky little voice piped up, "Two!"
So, maybe it's more than a couple dozen...
