As Maeve inches closer to turning two, recent months have had her proudly trying to dress herself. Although this means two feet in one pantleg, or her arm out the shirt hole made for her head, it’s exciting to see her so determined.
And when she’s successful? She’s so proud, much like her mama.
So weeks of late, she’s taken to greeting me in her crib in the morning, sans pajama bottoms. She’s sitting up, proudly boasting as I open the door, “Pant off mommeee! Pant off! May pant off! (She hasn’t yet mastered the “v” part of her name.) She’s so pleased with her herself. Cute, indeed.
Since she so easily mastered Project Pant Removal, my little overachiever then took to using the 45 minutes or so she sits happily in her crib each morning while I rush to get ready for work to tackle new, more lofty goals.
In addition to perusing the books we leave in the foot of her bed, sing-songing ABCs or Baa, Baa Black Sheep, she’s now graduated to Project Freak Mommy Out, which translates loosely into Hey, What’s This Diaper Thingie Doing Here? Cool! Extracurricular Crib Activity!
After nearly two straight weeks of finding beautiful but bare cheekies, dirty diapers strewn aside and fresh bedding-turned-dirty laundry, Thomas and I were about to dig out the duct tape in desperation. (Trust me when I say that my morning routine already is ugly enough without an appearance by the Diaper Swiper. Just getting her and I out the door, in some presentable and quasi-organized manner, and remotely close to on-time, is a plan that’s seriously paper-thin.)
But then his brilliant Professor Sister said matter-of-factly, “Just put the diaper on backwards.” (OK, so you don’t have to be a professor to think of that one, it’s just that she actually is a university prof and her idea turned out to be fantabulous. Obvious, yes, but genius nonetheless.)
Not just any old genius, but the I’m-hearing-harps-and-opera-sopranos-kind-of-genius.
For a couple weeks anyway.
Ya see, my little genius has now mastered Removing The Reverse Diaper. She trumped her aunt, the professor. Now, our morning conversations go something more like this:
Me: Good morning, Maeve! How are you? Did you sleep well, love?
Maeve: Mor-nig mommee! May dipah, what happen? (She shrugs, then smiles wide with pride.)
Diaperless in Jersey