Just Snail Slime

This little girl is giving me a RUN for my money. I said to JB, "I feel like I can't turn my head for one single second!" and his reply was, "That's exactly right. You can't."

Yeah, that sounds possible.

I have to go the bathroom. The boys require my attention. Sometimes it is literally me just turning my head one way for a few seconds. By the time I turn back, she has wandered off somewhere else. Even when I think I have gone ahead of her and planned for anything she could dream of doing, she outsmarts me.

I literally say to myself about a dozen times a day: how does one grown woman have so much trouble keeping track of one tiny toddler? Seriously Wendi! Get with the program!

I have decided to allow her to practice going up and down stairs by herself; I allow her to climb on things etc. She's going to do it when I'm not looking. So when I am, I'd rather she'd practice and get good at it.

She's been going down stairs by herself very well, but yesterday she went face first down the two stairs leading from the porch to the driveway and the road rash pictured above was the result. She only cried for a moment before she had moved on.

This morning, Sidge went to feed Scrubby. He wore JB's flip-flops. So when JB went to leave for work, he couldn't find his flip-flops. He decided to head out the hallway door to look for them. He found them, outside, in the rain.

Cue me. Sitting at the dining room table eating my breakfast. All children have been fed and are at peace. Boys are watching Dora. Abigail is playing right around them -- as she often does. The girl doesn't really want to play with toys. She wants to play near people. If the boys are on the ground, I can usually do something, for a moment. So I turn my attention for a mere moment to wipe some peanut butter off my plate. And I realize: Abigail is no longer with them. Where did she go?

The hallway. She has followed JB out the hallway door. And there she is. Standing on the porch, watching JB pull out. I run down the hallway to give her a rebuke and retrieve her, only to notice there is a HUGE snail in her hand. One of those big, slimy snails. And it get's better folks. She's eating it. There is slime everywhere!

JB has rolled down his window to make sure I saw that Abigail was there. "She went out the hallway door," he said.

"I know," I replied. "You should have shut it."

"Sorry," he said. "I was too busy getting mad that my flip-flops were soaking wet."

About this time I see the snail. "Oh John! This is disgusting. There is slime everywhere. This is so gross."

Of course my husband the nature-lover-to-the-bone says, "It's not gross. If you say that, the kids will think nature is gross." And then he says ... wait for it folks. "It's just snail slime."

I wave good bye and rush inside to douse her in water. Just snail slime. Seriously? Maybe so, but it's snail slime I will immediately wash off. (As I gag, mind you.)

Here's a picture minus the snail slime but plus four different bathing suits she insisted on wearing at the same time. I wish she would understand that it is impossible to wear multiple shoes at the same time. Great gnashing of teeth ensue when I tell her no.