Today the scenario goes like this: Mommy is nursing Joshua (this will be a common thread in many stories I weave about Grace's antics) and hears a metal clatter. It has to be the air register in Joshua's room, which doesn't nestle in properly because...well it's a long story. She is removing it for the hundredth time, and I am praying she doesn't throw anything down the hole. I hate it when she does this. "Why don't you just close the door to Joshua's room?" you think. Well, that sounds like a great idea in theory, but for whatever reason it gets pretty cold in there when the door is shut (drafty windows I suppose; shouldn't be, our house is brand new).
Several seconds and a bit of happy toddler chatter later, I hear the mirror leaning against the wall in our bedroom bumping against said wall (will be hung soon but she enjoys it so much we have delayed). Then I hear: "Mmmmmuh. Mmmmmmuh." She is kissing herself in the mirror, I'm sure of it. I have to crack a smile.
As I write, I am STILL nursing Joshua (he wouldn't go down for a nap and I just can't let him cry to sleep, not yet) and Grace is swinging herself very violently in the baby swing. Oh to be two (almost)!