Genevieve’s latest trick when she does not wish to comply with my expectations is arching her back, stiffening her entire body and screaming bloody murder. And so, apparently, the lifelong tensing and tightening of all our muscles into knots and bolts begins.
She still prefers kneel walking to regular upright on her feet walking. She’s now drinking regular old moo-cow milk. And she knows that a cow says moo. She likes to watch her DVDs and lets me know it all the time by taking them out of the cupboard, cling-hugging them and pointing repeatedly and gruntily at the television.
I still prefer napping to chasing a half-naked baby around the house trying to Velcro on a diaper to a wiggling butt. I am still not drinking cow milk because of a lactose type situation, but I went all out tonight and ate real ice-cream (mint chocolate chip). And I know that a cow says moo. I like Genny to watch her DVDs because I get a moment’s rest, but I have been pretty good at limiting her video intake to under an hour a day.
Quack, quack, waddle, waddle all day long. Quack, quack, waddle, waddle sing a duck song.