I was talking to my friend Laura the other day and the conversation, naturally, led to updates about our little Peanut and all the shenanigans that she’s been up to lately. Then she reminded me that I didn’t write a single one of these down on my blog. Really, Kat?
I’m fixing that. Pronto.
I don’t know if you know this about Peanut, but she is actually rather mischievous. In fact, she even has the mischievous look down. She knows that she is not allowed to press the Wii console button because it turns the whole thing on and off over and over again. So whenever we tell Peanut “no” to anything at all (“No, Peanut, don’t eat the tissue.” “No, Peanut, don’t poke the dog in the eye.”), she immediately gives me the look and toddles her way over to the console where she freezes, looks back at me, smiles and then presses the button in slow motion. I’d get mad but it’s so funny that I end up laughing. (yes, you can totally chalk this one up to “you’ll regret that later”).
Peanut absolutely loves her chair. Among a handful of other rules, we try to teach her that she is not supposed to stand on the chair because it’s dangerous and she’ll end up falling off and getting hurt. She knows this. Yet, every time that she climbs on the chair the first thing she does is stand up and smirk at me. I tilt my head and tell her that it’s dangerous and that she needs to sit down. So she plops her little bottom down, giggling. We proceed with whatever we’re doing (mostly, I play on my iPhone while Peanut plays on her chair) and as soon as I have my eyes off her, Peanut slowly stands up again, giggling and waiting for me to pay attention. At this point it’s too funny to let it go, so I pretend like I’m not looking. She starts dancing and stomping her feet, waiting for my head to turn. When I finally do, I shake my head and tell her to sit down. She giggles and plops down. This “game” continues for up to 20 minutes.
Every morning Jon and I wake up around 6 am and get ready before we get the baby. By looking at the monitor we know that she’s not completely asleep, but she rolls around in her crib and does her own thing until we’re ready to get her. By 7 we’re ready with a bottle and I always walk in her room, saying, “Good morning, Addison.” Having our drill down, our kid promptly removes her pacifier, throws it down in her crib, grabs her bear, grabs her monkey and sits up, waiting for me to pick her up. It’s so cute and hilarious and it always makes my morning.
I’m not exactly proud of this one, but Peanut is a hitter and a biter. Thankfully, it doesn’t really hurt anyone yet and we’re working on teaching her not to do it, but some of it is just plain hilarious (mostly to her). The other day I was hanging out, playing with my little Peanut when she, out of nowhere, smacked me. My face was that of complete shock, which apparently was pretty much the funniest thing in the world according to Peanut. She threw her head back, laughed and smacked me again. I was less amused at this point.
Peanut has started walking more and more on her own, but she’s still mostly just doing it for show. Most nights we’ll be hanging out and Peanut will stand up, wait for us to pay attention, walk a few steps toward one of us, then clap and smile until we clap and smile.
Dinner is a pretty easy time at our house hold (don’t stone me). Peanut is a very good and versatile eater. She loves variety and she loves dinnertime. But the one thing that she doesn’t love is actually drinking out of a sippy cup. Now don’t get me wrong, she knows how to drink from one and she does when she needs to. But as soon as you place one in front of her while she’s in a high chair, she picks it up, smiles her sly smile at you, closes her eyes and throws it down on the floor. She actually anticipates the noise and crash that the cup makes when it falls and closes her eyes before she drops it. I should make a very mad or indifferent face, but instead I laugh.
But above all else, Jon finds Peanut’s one new trick to be the funniest. As of about 3-4 days ago, Peanut will actually laugh at her own farts. Yes. The kid will fart, pause, look at one of us and laugh her little mischievous laugh. I’m not cool with it, but I can’t help but laugh too. Jon high-fives her.