Ivory is very two right now. It seems like just the last few days her ingenuity is getting her into trouble. Well, she thinks it is getting her into interesting things, her mom thinks it is getting her into trouble.
She has recently combined the skills of taking off twist tops with the skill of using a stool to reach everything her heart desires. My lip gloss is no longer sacred. I have them stashed around the house, but that just means more opportunities for Ivory. She comes to find me after getting into one, and she will have lip gloss all over her face. "Am I pretty?" she asks.
I really should be taking pictures of these precious moments, but it is hard to run for the camera when you feel the immediate need to extract the nail polish bottle from her purple sparkly fingers and clean up the floor as best you can.
My makeup is another draw for her and she often comes down with something that looks like a bruised eye, but is really just her creative rendition of watching mom (at least the eye shadow goes somewhere near the eye and not immediately on my the floor, although I have found it there too).
I guess this is not the end of the world. She will grow out of it and in the meantime it should keep me busy and not thinking about how huge I am and that I still have about seven weeks to go. I hate telling people that because they look and me and think that I miscalculated somehow. Nope, I am just a blob. I'm even measuring three weeks small (can you imagine what a whale I would be if I didn't have small babies...I shudder to think about it).