These are the best of times, and the worst of times...
Who said that? Someone important, I'm pretty sure. And after today, I think I know what he meant!
Charlie is almost 21 months old now. For me, she is at the most wonderful age a child can be. (Of course I'm her Grammakate, so I'm going to say that, no matter what age she is!)
This is the age when she's really testing her limits, learning that she can do more (and get away with more) than she could have dreamed of a few short months ago. She's learned how to communicate -- with words, of course -- But she's also learned that words aren't always necessary; the right smile will get Grammakate to let you play with her camera, her phone...or almost anything else your heart desires!
I can remember when a loud voice or a stern look would reduce Charlie to tears (and me, too). Not anymore. I say, "Charlie!" and she hears "Challenge!"
Like today, when she was lifting the cover off the floor register. I could imagine all kinds of household items turning up missing. Or a small cat being stuffed down there. Or maybe even a chubby little leg getting stuck. I said "No, no, Charlie," and replaced the cover. She laughed and gleefully removed it again. I said my line a little more firmly, emphasized my seriousness by drawing my eyebrows together and put the cover back. Charlie laughed and removed the cover...Repeat three or four additional times, with my voice becoming a little louder and my brow furrows a little deeper with each repetition. Charlie simply laughed and continued to remove the cover. Until I placed a chair on top of it. (I know she could have moved the chair, but she apparently didn't -- at least not yet.)
Then there was the matter of the coffee table...the coffee table which, once Charlie started pulling herself up and stumbling around precariously, found a new home, shoved up against the fireplace instead of in front of the sofa. (We must like it there, because there it still sits.) The thing about this coffee table is that it looks like a big trunk. The top is divided into two halves, which slide open to reveal a big, trunk-like storage space. (I know -- awesome, right?) Charlie likes to slide it open and climb in, where she rustles around among CD's, cassettes, game pieces...whatever the heck is in there.
She recently learned that once she was inside the table, getting on top of the table was a piece of cake! And I should have seen this coming, but after a few short weeks of entertaining herself -- and me -- by sitting on the coffee table (entertaining because I have photos of her mom doing the same thing at the same age), Charlie decided to stand up on that wobbly, slidy-topped coffee table and see what she could reach up on the mantle -- mostly breakable stuff that had been placed out her ahem reach.
I think it's worth noting here that my very perceptive granddaughter always waits until I am giving 4-month-old Teddy a bottle before beginning her climbing expeditions. Today, she learned that there are some things that will make Grammakate set that baby boy down for a moment. She might have been testing her limits, but she found out what mine were...Oh, who am I fooling? I'm clearly the one who was being tested all along!
(Before I was forced to interrupt poor little Teddy, I actually heard myself say, "Charlie, you sit down on that table!")
Okay, just one more, and then I must stop; elstwise you'll think I'm complaining...
Although Charlie has yet to show any interest in crayons as anything other than something to scatter widely around a room, I periodically pull out a plastic bin of them and an Elmo coloring book, purchased especially for her. I start coloring (just waiting for the day when she'll join me) and she starts scattering. When there are no more crayons in the bin, I gather them up, and we're finished with "art" for a while. Today, however, the bin of crayons didn't make it back to their shelf, but rather, sat on the table in the living room. Where Charlie could reach them. I watched her pick up a yellow one and hold it to her eye. She said, "Eye." (See how smart she is?) Of course I said, "No, no, Charlie. Don't put the crayon in your eye." Which prompted her to laugh, turn around and run as fast as could, holding a yellow crayon to her eye. I have no explanation for this strange behavior.
Ah, life is fun and funny, exciting and harried, noisy and crazy, and I really don't want these days to go by too fast. Because I know that they will, though, I want to remember them. I think I'll remember today as the day Charlie "broke bad."
Funny Kate, it's about time Charlie finally caught up with Hope's antics! Now you know how I've been feeling for several months. Just think of the damage they could do together! Do you think meeting Hope was a bad influence on sweet Charlie? (Sorry.)
ReplyDeleteWe have a trunk for a coffee table, too, but ours opens the regular way and contains Civil War Clothing. Hope has been climbing up there for months now, but she usually likes to sit on it.
Hope has been coloring for about a month now. We only own washable crayons (Hope that is all you have!) I usually put Hope in the high chair to color so she can't do too much damage (She did color her face the other day.) When I have been lazy and let her color at the table, she has colored the floor, the window (They make crayons just for windows now) and anything else she can find.
Have fun with your newly liberated Charlie!