My daughter moves. She moves so FAST.

Gone are the days of wandering around the shopping center “killing time” looking for the perfect jam, for the perfect peanut butter and jelly. We don’t “kill time” at all in fact, we CHASE each other around the house. I want her to hang in the play room, and entertain herself with one of the many thousands of educational toys we have been suckered into buying, but she’d rather chase the cats around or sit in the corner of the kitchen looking for trouble. I’d LOVE to read books in the living room together, but she has taught herself how to sneak out of the baby gate, and make a run for it. Literally people, a run. She went from walking, to jogging.

And so gone are my days of sanity. My mom used to warn me that I didn’t really, exactly want to PUSH her to walk, because it wasn’t all holding hands and skipping, and she was right.  I’ve installed baby gates everywhere, and we went shoe shopping so she doesn’t get splinters, or step in dog poo while in the yard.

And you know, it’s not all bad. It is cute to watch her take spills, wipe off her hands and get up. It’s also a blast picking out ballet flats, and mary janes for her chubby little feet. But she’s so fast. My husband and I are the kind of people who can really get into a good couch sesh, and she’s the exact opposite. She’s like, ADHD/I drank 1000 Redbulls kid…how did this happen!

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