Yeah, it seemed like a better idea for a title in my head.
And there’s nothing much here but pictures of Margaret with tambourines. Or sambourines. Or possibly submarines. Her enunciation continues a little muddy. She discovered them this morning, and thought that they were awesome, because you could shake them or give them high five, and it made music*, Mommy, MUSIC.**
And then she wanted to go and show Ellie, who was at that point sleeping inoffensively in her crib. And while I think that this desire to include Ellie is sweet and lovely and should be encouraged, I also feel that – you know – naps are important. Very important. So we didn’t. But I praised her for her thoughtfulness.
And then later today, she wanted Ellie to have her hair brushed, and told me that she was being thoughtful.
ARG.
Which reminds me of another adorable Margaret anecdote, for which there is no picture, but is still awfully cute. She has been learning to throw things, and we have been trying to convince her, by way of strategically applied time-outs, that throwing things is a bad idea.
So this morning, I had the idea of putting the things in time out, since she tends to throw treasured possessions like Legos and balls and books and stuffed animals.
I told her about this, and she said “If I throw, it goes in time out” very seriously. And then she went and grabbed the hair brush and hurled it across the room. That kid is far too clever*** for her own good. Or my good, anyway.
*For a certain specialized definition of music that is limited to cacophonous noise. So Margaret would do well as a modern composer of a certain school that writes symphonies to be performed on bicycle horns and rocks and whatnot.
**Pronounced “muse-i-ket, since it’s so important it needs three syllables.
***Again, “clever” is used here to mean “fiendishly devious.”
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