She's lucky she's cute

Happy gorgeous Monday morning! This is the beginning of the semi-last week of my semester, the one where I panic about everything I thought I was going to get done weeks ago, yadayada. In true fashion the weather is beyond perfect (long sleeves!!!!!!!) and H has decided this is the right time to assert her independence, mainly by saying "NO!" to absolutely everything and pitching a fit about everything I didn't do the way she wanted (which also seems to be everything). It's obviously time to teach her a bunch of new signs so we could communicate more effectively and/or she could change her gibberish to actual words.
There are a few things currently keeping her alive. The first is the humongous breakfast she fed herself with a spoon. The second is that she was thrilled to be back in the lillebaby as all strollers seem to have gone to work with Steve (also all the bike helmets) and even snuggled on our walk back. Third, she really is stinkin' cute. And I'm happy to report that it was as I suspected: I do love the toddler age. Yes, her whining is driving me nuts, but it's so much fun to see her put stuff together, come up with new expressions, watch her laugh at the funniest things, marvel as she picks up new physical skills, realize that she tends to observe before jumping into something, be relieved that she picks up on subtle social cues quite keenly...in short, she's a real person and I'm happy to realize I like her as much as I love her.
Some proof that mini people are by far the most adorable kind (sorry about the rotation, even my computer is saying "no!" today. thank goodness for ikea chocolate):

I showed her once, and now she likes to swing herself on her tummy

She's started walking up stairs using the handrail or our hand instead of dropping to crawl

 

 

Obviously videography (or narrating) is not my forte, but I was proud of her for gutsing up to slide since she'd been refusing the last few weeks.
OK, off to memorize abx regimes for postpartum infections and what to do if catastrophe occurs in labor (run screaming is not the acceptable answer, apparently).