At heart

I think our house is getting shorter.

Now at a whopping three days, this is the second longest stretch Lyla has ever gone without getting bitten by another child. The longest stretch was the first 532 days of her life, not counting the many times she inadvertently or purposely gummed herself.

Lyla does not yet have any long-term goals besides going to her senior prom with Elmo. She has hundreds of short-term goals, however, and has recently decided that the best way to achieve those goals is to be bossy and demanding. She is becoming her mother.

For instance, Lyla's current view on the subject of clothes is that she's far too busy to sit still while I dress her. Whereas even a week ago we had lovely and civil discourses about shoes and feet and hands and sleeves, now it's like I'm wrestling a giant angry noodle.

This morning at 4:30, Lyla suddenly thought of 632 things she would rather do than sleep. She berated us so severely all morning that Julie asked the nurse at daycare to check her ears for infection. No infection, and when I picked her up this afternoon the teachers reported that she had been especially happy all day long. But then in the car she threatened me severe bodily harm when I couldn't produce a third cracker.

I think at heart she's a teenager.