Froggy is an active child. And by active I mean cuckoo-running-around-the-house-getting-into-trouble-and-capable-of-mass-destruction-in-seconds-active.
I've baby-sat, nannied, and have always been around kids, and I can honestly say, Froggy is the equivalent of four children - four times the energy, four times the laughter, and four times the trouble.
I'm not complaining, because her mischievousness is entertaining and I'm sure a sign of a genius in the making, right? But by the end of the day, when I'm changing a poo diaper and she's flailing her toes in the air, twisting like a pretzel, while screaming "KITTY!!!" I dream of the docile child, the inquisitive and quiet child, gently pondering the days events. But no, she is a whirlwind until her head hits the pillow.
Today, while "trying" to get dressed (at 3pm no less), Froggy pulled all of the diapers out of the basket, took everything off the night stand, including a glass of water, pulled my shoes out of the closet, found a penny, put it in her mouth, showed it to me, put it back in her mouth (I took it out), scared the cat under the bed, opened her diaper cream and smeared it on her hands, and licked the floor. And you wonder why I'm still in my pajamas at 3pm?
She is one of a kind. I love this kid, but boy am I tired.