They Grow Up So Fast

This morning while I was getting ready in the bedroom, I heard the sound of clinking glass coming from the kitchen.  Someone was up to no good.  Heath peeked around the corner and saw Annabelle dangling from the kitchen counter, leaning over the glass snack jar.  She got down and proudly walked into the bedroom with a tiny box of raisins.  "Annabelle," I said.  "You are not allowed to get your own snacks."  She looked at me, popped a couple raisins in her mouth and replied, "Oh...only Mommy and Daddy do dat?"  "Yes," I said.  "Only Mommy and Daddy can touch the snack jar."  She looked at me for a minute, munching on her raisins like a valley girl chewing a piece of Dubble Bubble.  "Yeah...well...Mommy, I opened this box of waisins by all myself," she chimed.

She is a little over a month away from turning three, yet already, she seems to act more like a 13 year old.  What am I going to do with her?  They do grow up so fast.

Annabelle loves to play with her baby dolls.  After all, she says she wants to be a "real Mommy" when she grows up.  One of her favorite pastimes is looking through the American Girl catalog.  When a new catalog arrives in our mailbox -- oh, happy day -- she is overjoyed.  As soon as she sees the dolls on the front cover, she eagerly grabs it from my hands, plops herself down on the floor or the couch and begins making a mental wish list. And let's not forget...she's two.  I can only imagine what she'll be like a few years from now.  I'm pretty sure she'll need to have a steady, paying job by the age of three and a half (not to mention a much larger bedroom) just to support her American Girl interests. 

...And she has such a positive outlook on life.  Earlier today when I discovered her standing on the open dishwasher door, I yelled, "Annabelle, get off of that!  You're going to break it!"  She listened...and obeyed, but as she stepped down and closed the dishwasher, she said, in a little high-pitched voice, "Ok, Mommy, I will....but if I break it, it's ok.  You will say, 'OH, MY!' and then we can go buy a new one."  

...And she shows such concern for others.  The other day, she accidentally hurt her brother somehow.  I think it involved a rocking horse rocking over his foot.  When he started hollering, she ran over to him, took his face in her hands and said, sweetly, "Jacob, don't cwy!  Don't cwy, Jacob!  It's just an accident, ok?  It's just an accident." 

...And she has a love for body art.  I can't seem to keep the dry erase markers from her.  No matter where I hide them, she manages to find at least one.  And when she does, she gets straight to work,  covering her entire body, from head to toe, in ink.  She usually does this while I'm on the phone, or cooking dinner, or doing a school activity with Jacob.  Yesterday, she walked into our classroom covered in black ink.  She had a mustache, a full beard, and her legs were so black it looked like she was wearing leggings.  I didn't even know she had the marker...until she showed me her finished "masterpiece."  Oh well.  I guess I'd rather her color herself than my furniture or walls. So, go ahead, Annabelle.  Color your arms, legs, and face with dry erase markers.  We can wash it off in the bathtub.  But when you get older, don't even think about asking for a tattoo...unless, of course, you want me to draw one with a dry erase marker.  :)