Baby F. is no longer a baby. People argue about exactly when
a baby becomes a toddler. Most seem to think that it’s when babies start to
walk, which given the artist formerly known as Baby F.’s lateness in
ambulating, made it seem as if she might become a toddler right around the time
she entered grammar school ;o)
Others think that it’s when they turn 18 months, or for lay-people, aka civilians without their own little rug rats, when they turn 1 year and a half. By both definitions, Baby F. is now Toddler F.
It took her a little while but she now walks *and* is almost 2 years old – whoo-hoo! – so yeah, she’s a toddler.
Others think that it’s when they turn 18 months, or for lay-people, aka civilians without their own little rug rats, when they turn 1 year and a half. By both definitions, Baby F. is now Toddler F.
It took her a little while but she now walks *and* is almost 2 years old – whoo-hoo! – so yeah, she’s a toddler.
Deities help us, everyone.
This also means, that in addition to being able to walk and
run and stumble and chase cats, she’s also developed quite the
personality. She’s quite a
jokester and has been so since at least August of last year, when I’d
originally meant to write about this. But alas, many things have come along to
interrupt my train of thought, some of which I’ll be writing about in the
coming weeks.
Back to my little comedian though…
Like most babies, er, I mean toddlers, F. is a keen
imitator, a verifiable little monkey at aping whatever funny thing she sees moi
or her Papa doing. So far this has been amusing as she hasn’t taken to
imitating us when we are grumpy ;o)
I might have once upon a time, put a tea towel on my head and pretended I was a
ghost for her amusement. Maybe.
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Not a towel, but indicative of the various things she'll place on her head. Baskets, towels, books, cats... |
Well, since then, she’s taken to occasionally placing a towel upon her own head and running around like a maniac with no set direction in mind. This has resulted in at least one minor crash. No one was hurt, neither F. nor the tea towel, nor well, the wall, but I think she then figured out maybe putting a towel on one’s head and running around aimlessly might not be the best idea ever. Still, for about a week last summer, this was very amusing.
Another just charming habit she picked up (ahem) is to make believe she’s picking her nose. She’ll place her finger just under one of her nostrils and wait for me to admonish her for it. At which point, she’ll giggle like mad and then switch to another finger and wait for me to once again ‘yell’ at her. Oh, the fun we had with this one. The disregard for authority was just oh so precious :p
Therein lies the problem with some of these acts. I should admonish her for
some of them, and I sometimes do, but then she does something hilarious and I’m
left trying to stifle a laugh while trying to discipline her. And let me tell
you, I’m generally a good multitasker, but suck at doing both of these at the
same time ;o)
Toddler F. also adores to ‘chase’ anyone she can through the apartment,
particularly around our kitchen table. Her Unkie D. has been pressed into
service to do this but she’ll do it with me and her Papa-in-Training as well.
Nothing makes her cackle more uncontrollably than ‘chasing’ someone, which
usually involves an adult circling the table with her in tow.
She’s definitely a little person now, with her own personality and a
myriad stock of funny faces that she employs at will to make us laugh. F.’s
face seems to be made of rubber sometimes, and she’s definitely a contender for
the title of Baby of a Thousand Faces…I mean Toddler of a Thousand Faces ;o)
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