Things Corrie Does, Or Why My House is a Mess

Oh, look... it's September.  And no blog post for August.  Not sure how that happened.

Anywho... just had one more nudge from my mother about posting and since I've had a post in my head brewing for a while, perhaps it's time to put it to paper, er, keyboard/monitor.

I should note that at one point, in my mental blog, this was a far more narrative blog than a list, but Corrie's naptime is drawing to a close and I haven't made a dent in dinner plans.  So, you get a list.

For the record, and for posterity's sake, here is current list of how Corrie - in all her exuberance - has created havoc in the last six months:

Eaten butter from the middle of the table;
Fed butter to the dog and herself on the kitchen floor;
Emptied my jar of dried tarragon leaves in the dining room;
Attempted to scale several dressers and cabinets;
Successfully completed a climb of her changing table (and then proceeded to sit there and call me to her room with "Mama, help!   Mama, poop!  Mama, help!"  At least she wasn't doing it herself.)
Pulled apart several books that had lasted all the way through Calla's infancy and toddlerhood;
Poured the box of organic brown rice krispies into a small plate on the dining room table.  In her defense, she did first get the plate and put it on the table and then pour directly on it.  It may have been more of an issue of volume.  That was a good day for Chloe.
Fed the dog by throwing down handfuls of dog food in random places, helping herself to a few bites of kibble;
Routinely denudes bookshelves, cabinets in record time, scattering the contents to the corners of the house.  I have kitchen gadgets I haven't seen for 6 months;
Routinely dismantles TV remotes, and somehow has scared the DVD player into opening the tray only briefly before closing.  Who knew appliances could learn self-preservation techniques?

There are a few other things also...
Loves to give hugs and kisses.  Almost to anyone - say, the oven repair man.  Calla's teacher.  Thankfully, She can only say "Hud, hud!" so it's not always clear what she's asking at inappropriate times.  At the same time, there just isn't a whole lot sweeter at the end of the day than Corrie saying good night to her big sister with a "Tiss, Talla, Tiss!"  Calla isn't always happy to comply with the request - and in her defense, Corrie's kisses are more like a slobbery lick, so I can understand the reluctance.

Her favorite DVD right now is "Elmo's Potty Time,"  particularly the boisterous Elmo-Grover duet "Accidents Happen!"  The chorus goes something like this...  "Accidents happen, that's what they say.  Accidents happen, night or day.  Accidents happen, when you're awake or nappin'.  Accidents happen, and that's..."

And here's where Corrie joins in...  From whatever corner of the house she's in, she'll pipes up and bellows "O-TAAAAAY!"

But, here's the thing.  Even though I'm tired of rescuing Calla from her little sister's energetic attentions (spilling water on Calla, tearing her books, the list goes on), it's so hard to get angry with Corrie because she's just doing it all with such joie-de-vivre.  I imagine it was great fun to finally get that lid off my tarragon jar and then see it snow little green dried leaves.  And then to feel the crunch under her feet as she really worked them into the carpeting.  She loved every destructive second of that experience.  It's easier just to laugh than get too worked up about it.  And then be thankful for our vaccum cleaner.  And Chloe.

Finally... apropos to absolutely nothing else in this blog... a snippet from our drive time on our summer trip to Michigan. 

I had just handed over to Calla a new juice box, telling her what the flavor was.  She took a sip and exclaimed:  "Mixed Berries make me feel DANGEROUS!"

There you have it.  May we all have an occasion to feel the danger of the mixed berry every now and again.