my heart bursts with love.

Apparently Olive thinks she has mastered potty training, since she has now moved on to training others: 
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So… our 19 1/2-month-old has turned into a 15-year-old overnight. Seriously. This girl has suddenly got the most unpredictable, inexplicable emotional ups and downs that I have witnessed. And it’s particularly bad after gymnastics which, thank the stars above, ended today. (Gymnastics was fun the first few weeks and then it just got weird. The teachers would paw the kids up and down (nothing creepy, just more handsy than I like to see), I don’t think they ever cleaned the equipment (and I am NOT a germophobe), and there was one little boy who made it his mission to run around and shove, hit, kick, trip, push, and otherwise assault the other kids in the class. Um… he’s ONE! What will this child be when he is a teenager?! YIKES! And I overheard his mom saying to another mother “I just can’t help but laugh when he hits! hehehehe!” WTF?! Wow.) Anyway, the 2 days or so following gymnastics, Olive thinks she can hit shove, and throw little tantrum-ettes. So not cool. Anyone who has seen us parenting in-action knows that we tolerate NO shenanigans. We’re not mean, but we’re pretty structured with her (for a variety of reasons – attachment being the main one, but also that I hate poorly behaved children). So we spend 48 hours undoing what happens in 30 minutes of gymnastics. So, obviously, we’re glad it’s over.
This morning, we were in the beloved play room and Olive would pick up her wooden train tracks, walk over to me, and just start whimpering. I thought she wanted help putting them together. Oh no. When I put the pieces together, she MELTED down. She actually started crying. Weirdsmobile.
Then, after lunch (which also caused a mini-meltdown), she had it out with these shoes:
They are hand-me-down Dorah sneakers from our friend Sylvia. And Olive spends a good 10-15 minutes fruitlessly trying to put them on. It is sad and hilarious all at once. And, it never fails, she puts the right shoe on the left foot. Always the left foot. Something about her coordination prevents her from putting shoes on her right foot. Well, today’s shoe episode went on for the usual 10 minutes but was interspersed with fake tears and moaning, sprinkled with shoe flinging/throwing every few tries. Once, she tried to throw the shoe AT me (unsuccessfully) and I instantly told her “no throwing” and took the shoe. She then tried, sorta pitifully, to slap me. Again, I could tell that she was just testing the limits. So I calmly told her “you do NOT hit mommy!” and gave her a hug and a kiss and let her go back to shoeing herself. Well, the second time this whole series of events went down, I repeated my admonitions, snatched the shoes away and said “All Done!” She looked at me in disbelief for a brief moment (sans tears) and proceeded to suck her thumb. I announced “nap time!” and off she went
At the same time, Olive is developing this side-splitting habit of laughing over absolutely nothing. Stay tuned – we will try to get video of this… she has developed this hilarious sense of humor of sorts. She’ll do something (or nothing) that she finds positively side-splitting and she busts out this fake-ish sounding guffaw and even doubles over while doing it. Oh. My. Goodness. It’s adorable.
In other news, Miss Olive is going to bed on her own. Don’t get me wrong – we do the usual books, songs, and some brief rocking. But we put her in bed fully awake, give her a kiss, a hug, and an “I love you,” and she puts herself to sleep. It is glorious. The cutest thing has developed in the past week, though. As I stand up from the rocking chair to put her in her crib, she strains for me, reaching up towards my neck, for just one last snuggle and hug. I’ll hold her, singing and rocking back and forth as she hugs me, and then I kiss her and tell her “good night.” BEST part of my entire day.
I think what all this means is that our little girl is really starting to grow up.
And though she’s getting a little ornery streak, I find myself adoring her more and more each day.
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