Yesterday was Grace's third birthday, a day I have been anticipating with as much excitement as her first birthday (so I could stop worrying about SIDS). We had so much fun all day. I sensed she was acting more mature, and I secretly hoped she felt guilty about her behavior as a two year old. Then this morning she sent her cereal bowl flying, and tonight she asked for a grilled cheese sandwich, which she tossed on the floor before pouring her milk on the table. Brady was delighted. Me, not so much. I know these are a lot of pictures from last night; indulge me. It's the last time I was delusional enough to think we were through the worst of it.
She didn't set her hair on fire or stick her fingers in the flame. Color me surprised.
It was a nice idea, but who the hell eats a cupcake with a fork?
Ah, yes. That's more like it.
She sampled three cupcakes. This was her favorite.
Like a little lady eyeing a finger sandwich...
...and deciding to cram the whole thing in her mouth...
...and giving the finger to the "little lady" label. That's my girl.
This was really fun for me to watch. And if you believe that, you probably don't know me from Madonna.
Early present. I thought it was a chair, but it's just one more thing on which to climb and jump off.