My little Lovegirl, my sweet, innocent, angel baby turned 18 months old yesterday. We celebrated with a trip to the pediatrician’s for a checkup and a S-H-O-T. Ouch!
Lovegirl weighs 23 pounds,7 ounces. She is reaching toward the sky with all 31 inches of her being. She apparently passed all of the check-up benchmarks: speaks more than 3 words, walking, running, feeding herself, waving, pointing, etc.
I, however, failed one.
The nurse asked me if Lovegirl tries to imitate me doing housework. I was like “what?” The nurse replied “you know, when you finish sweeping, does she grab the broom and try to sweep, does she try and mop, that sort of thing?” I was like “lady, are you crazy?!? She is 18 months old, very busy, and into everything. Do you really think that I have the time or inclination to do all of this “housekeeping” while she’s awake? Geesh! When the floor is swept – and that doesn’t happen too often ’cause we use the dog as our floor-cleaning-mechanism – she is SLEEP. In the bed. Knocked out. Every night, I tidy up so she’ll have something to mess up the next day. So, no, she does not imitate me doing housework. She’s never seen me do any!”
The nurse just looked at me and said “I’m just going to mark yes.”