When I found out I was pregnant with a girl, before having Lauren, everyone kept telling me how different little girls are from boys. They kept telling me how little girls are so much sweeter and calmer and how it would be such a nice break from rowdy, rambunctious boys.
Well, apparently they never became acquainted with Lauren when we were all still little angels flying around before we were born. I love that little girl to pieces, but quieter and calmer? No way.
She's 18 months old, and if I remember correctly, that's when my two boys were at their height of mischief and constantly into garbages and toilets. Things seemed to settle down at around age two, so hopefully that will be the same in this case.
But at the same time, there are so many cute little things that she does, both naughty and nice, that I will miss when she starts to settle down.
I know I've written about this before, but one of my favorite things about her is her love for dancing. Every morning she comes in, grunting and pointing at the radio in my room for me to turn it on. She immediately starts bobbing, shaking, and clapping with a huge smile on her face. Even when we're in the car, if there is a song with a good rhythm on the radio, I can see her little pig-tails bobbing to the beat in the rear view mirror.
This past Sunday morning, I thought some calm, peaceful gospel music would be nice to listen to as we got ready for church. When she heard me turning the radio on, she came running into my room with her head already bobbing and her hands in clapping position. When the soft, fluid music came on, she shook her booty once or twice, stopped, looked at me with a confused look, shook it again, stopped, and now looked at me with an irritated look. This went on for about 20 seconds before she got fed up and stomped out of the room.
Another funny thing she loves to do is to go into her brother's room while they are playing, and being as stealthy as an 18 month old can be, steals their underwear from their closet and runs out of the room, waving it in the air, screeching triumphantly. Then she waits in the hallway corner, squealing, waiting for them to rescue their whitey-tighty hostages.
Her brothers are pretty pesky with her, and at times down-right obnoxious, yet despite all the beatings and doors slammed in her face, they are surprisingly patient with her at times. My favorite is when they're laying on the living room floor watching TV and she'll come and body slam them as hard as she can. Suprisingly, they seem not mind this so she continues rolling around on them, occassionally punching them in the heads with her little fists. They usually ignore it and just move their heads around so they can keep watching TV while she beats on them. At times she'll replace the punching with open-mouthed drool baths, right on their faces. They just laugh, wipe the drool away, and keep watching TV.
I realize that if you talk to just about any mother of an 18-month old, they will comment on their abundance of energy. But having had two other kids, I think I can safely make the comparison that she has more energy than either of them ever had. The woman is constantly running, climbing, dancing, stacking, digging, splashing, pestering, you name it. Almost daily, I get a sympathetic comment from a stranger or friend on Lauren's remarkably high level of energy and activity.
I can't go without mentioning her middle-of-the-night scream. When my boys woke up at night or after their naps, they would first whimper, then slowly work up to a cry. My little Lauren goes from zero to supersonic in about 3 seconds. It like a 10cc shot of straight adrenaline when you have that wake you up from a deep sleep at 2am.
To top off her lady-like behavior, she has quite the little menacing growl. When there's something she doesn't like, she growls, just like a pre-pubescent little lion. I love it. She only says a couple of words and mostly does the little cavewoman grunt and point. It's impressive how many things she can communicate to us just be fluctuating the pitch and volume of the letter A. She can communicate most phrases in the English language just by how she pronounces and grunts this letter, combined with the appropriate hand gestures. Her newest hand gesture, when she's frustrated with something (usually me), is to ball up her little fist and hit herself in the head with it while giving us a dirty look and growling in a low voice.
Being the third child, the poor little miss has gotten the least amount of one-on-one time with me but she sure can hold her own. I love women with spunk and personality so in a very strange way, I hope this feistiness continues, just hopefully not directed at her parents. It would also be nice if she could be tidy and spunky at the same time too. Here's for hoping.