18 months old

When she went to sleep that night she was a sweet little baby, when she woke up dare I say she turned into a crazy animal. I'm not sure when the exact moment was, but it happened. She doesn't stop, and slows only to eat a candy, which is her new, thanks to Halloween, word. She plays in the toilet, turns the bath water on, climbs into the bath, fully dressed. She climbs the shelf in the pantry to obtain a twinkie or candy or other crap that I'm sure is not iron enriched. She uses her highchair as a ladder to play with the kitchen blinds, then its on to pulling every DVD, CD, and book off the shelves, and mind you this is all before lunch. Thank the heavens for naptime. That's when I take a couple of breaths. The house never clean, the dust never settled, because then she is using the vacuum to prop herself up on top of the computer desk so she can try out the scissors or draw on the desk calendar. She pauses only to poke the kitty in the eye and she's on her way to feed cereal to the doorknob less door of the boys room. I hear her muffled cries to find her wedged under Kynzies bed, then its time to wrestle her down to get shoes on to pick up the biggens from school. I'm exhausted, and have gotten nothing done. The greatest part is, I adore it all, and take pictures and laugh, because she is my little baby, no matter what. If I could of only recognized this before the olders were so big. I took for granted all the silly things they did. I hold on to every little moment, and brag about every naughty thing she does. These are the easy parts. And I feel so lucky to finally catch on to that.