Rug rats and crumb snatchers

I have four children, and each of them have had their unique personalities and quirks. My first child (the cautious one) never had the desire to look inside the kitchen cabinets, so I never had to baby proof the kitchen. She looked at a plug once with a screwdriver, and that’s as far as it went. Then came Superhero, a bundle of super kinetic energy disguised as a boy. I had to baby proof the kitchen after all. Chilipepper we have dubbed, “Me too!”, because everything her brother does, she has to copy. But never have I ever had a child obsessively put things into their mouth as Ladybug does.

When she was crawling, it made sense. She was closer to the floor. I tried to be good about keeping the floor swept and vacuumed, but she seemed to grab the dust out of the air and compress it into bunny shapes. Now she’s walking, or rather, running, around the house and at the same time, without slowing down mind you, picking up everything she can get her little paws on.

I try to be so good and careful, but invariably, I will see her out of the corner of my eye, reaching for the prize on the floor. I look at her, she looks at me. She smiles. She puts her hand to her mouth as I am getting up and flies in the opposite direction I want her to go. It goes so fast, but at the same time it’s all in slow motion, like a nightmare when you can’t get down the hall.

I have to say, though, she’s getting better. Now she’s coming to me and taking it out of her mouth and giving it to me. She’ll even come over and say, “mmm” (as in yummy), so I know she’s guilty.

Sigh.

Fortunately, God has thus far spared me the ordeal my mother went through when I was little. Apparently when I was two years old, I drank a bottle of kerosene and lived to tell about it.

Did I mention Ladybug is a mini-me?

This is how I have managed to lose weight, by running after a crumb snatcher all day.

I think I need some chocolate,
Brandie