too funny not to share

The quality isn't the best -- it's an iPhone photo of a library book, but I think you'll get the gist of it. With props to Harvey Karp, MD and his book "Happiest Toddler on the Block," I present to you concrete, scientific evidence behind the reason for my exhaustion:
If you can't read the legend, it says "Seven clocked minutes of nursery school behavior at different ages." See the upper right-hand box that's circled? Yeah. That's the trajectory of a mere SEVEN MINUTES in the life of an 18-month-old. I was reading in bed when I came across this graphic and laughed (silently, of course, so as not to wake Olivia) until I had tears streaming down my face. It's so true. I would love to strap a little GPS on her so I could see her (probably very similar to the above graphic, if not even more madcap) path at the end of the day.

it's getting harder to blog ...

... with a toddler running all over the place. I remember the days of typing on my laptop while a tiny 9-pound Olivia snoozed on my chest. These days, I'm lucky if she gets a nap in, period. She's go go go all the time, which I hear is normal for this age. ;)

I've been trying to get her outside more, but given her hatred of having sunscreen applied, we're usually limited to a quick after-dinner sandbox visit. I have to admit that her sandbox makes me a little twitchy: between her trying to sample some of the grainy goodness and flinging it in the air so it coats her hair, eyelashes, and every square inch of her skin, it's just such a mess. Who knew I could be OCD about messes?

I think all of my readers know this already, but I'm pregnant (due date: 12/15/2009). First trimester fatigue + toddler = pure survival mode, so part of the reason for my scarce blogging as of late is because I usually tumble into bed the minute Olivia hits her crib for a nap. The second trimester is just around the corner, so I'm hoping that once that milestone hits I'll be feeling a bit more like myself, taking more photos again, etc.

If you haven't checked it out yet, watch Olivia spell her name. Pretty darn good for a 15-month-old if I do say so myself! Here are a few pictures of her playing in her sandbox (Daddy's idea) this week.

where oh where did my sweet girl go?

Can the terrible twos arrive at 15 months? siiiiiiiiigh. We've hit a bit of a rough patch lately with our darling Miss Olivia.

She's learned that she has a lot of very strong opinions about things in her life:

diaper changes = bad
riding in wagon = awesome
evil parents removing her from said wagon = very, very bad
bathtime = awesome
evil parents removing her from bathtub = injustice of all injustices
splashing in the cat bowl = rocks!
mean mommy taking cat bowl away = fuh-huh-reakout time

And so on and so forth. Thus my posting hiatus. I've been slightly exhausted by the hysterics and haven't wanted to post until I could muster up a little humor first.

But at least she's still cute, and I know you want photos, so here you go!

her new sweet ride:

first bath in the big tub without her inflatable duck baby tub -- she LOVED it. Splash city.