Nono and I are getting some quality one-on-one time now that the older two are in school. Lissy for just half a day, but it is still great.
Nono is at that stage where she wants to do everything herself. Forget about trying to dress her. "I do it myself," is her over-used phrase these days. That's an outfit she picked out herself: overalls and no shirt. Who am I to judge? I'm just her mother. I tried coaxing her into a shirt, but she'd have none of it. And because she can take her clothes off and put them on by herself, I don't bother with the battle. I was raised in southern Idaho, afterall. Overalls with no T-shirt is a cultural statement.
Her independence borders on driving me crazy. She must brush her teeth herself, including applying the toothpaste to the toothbrush. Consequently, I find toothpaste in various places on the carpet all over the house.
I read a headline recently (didn't bother reading the story, just the headline, so I may be totally off base) that read children can understand the needs of their dogs. I could have told you that. (Yeah, I'm that know-it-all you despise who ruins every magic trick, every trivia game, and every Lifetime Movie plot twist with "I knew that.") Melissa was especially adept at being able to let Jesse, our family dog, outside when he needed to do his business in our yard, which I later get to pick up myself. Now it's Nohea's job to open the front door to let Jesse outside, whilst I lazily lay on the couch watching my "stories." If only she had the ability to also pick up his "business" and throw it in the garbage. And mow the lawn while she's out there too.
Hillbillies. What can I say? They never were the brightest tool in the shed, or some mixed metaphor like that.