Echoes.

I need 6 arms.
Or more.
I may need more.

Never have I been so acutely aware of the fact that one child outnumbers a set of parents.

Perhaps I should have been alarmed when the doctor said, “She’s the busiest baby I’ve ever seen in all my years of practice!”
But mostly I felt proud.
Maybe I should have known something was bound to be wrong with a child that will eat anything put in front of her – she doesn’t turn her nose up at any kind of food.  It’s all fair game.
But I was just so happy she didn’t have the weight problems that some of my friends’ babies have.

But now.

Now everything she sees is Food.
Those with children are laughing, thinking that that’s how every baby views the world.
But no!  I can assure you!  I’ve done this before.
This is DIFFERENT.

She Jedi mind tricks the world around her into shedding the normal physical rules that define it.
The basket across the room containing all of the things I must pack for our move – because we are moving – what a better time to move than JUST after your baby has become mobile… But that basket?  The one with the Things?  The Things She Cannot Have Without Threat of Death?
You blink and it has crossed the room to her.
There is no other explanation to explain the handfuls of the Things protruding from her mouth.
For she has not moved.
You know she hasn’t.
You’ve been staring at her the whole time.
Except for the involuntary blinking that comes with having eyes and eyelids to blink.
But surely no MORTAL baby could have moved so quickly?

But she has.

Note the paper that she has brought over to her toys.  The blankets in the background that she has dragged around.  The box that she dumped over and unpacked.  And this is just the Mostly Untouched side of the room.

Oh.  Did I not mention that this wonder being was SICK while she was running around so crazily?
Note the snot.
Today was only half speed.

Lord, help me.
I’ve given birth to a Tasmanian Devil on speed.