Madelyn has recently developed a total aversion to her high chair. I strap her in, and the first time I turn my back, she's slipped out of her harness and is standing four feet in the air on top of her food tray. I will admit that it's absolutely adorable, her standing there beaming and clapping her hands with pride--but as her mother, it drives me nuts.
So, I moved her to Jameson's little table for her meals, which they both think is great. This was a pivotal point for Jameson in Madelyn's transition to a big girl. "Mom, my baby is big now?" Yes, Jameson, sadly, our baby is big. (I haven't figured out why that's so sad for me. I've just been having a tough time with my baby girl growing up. I cried on her first birthday.)
The only problem with Madelyn at the "big kid" table is that she now wants to pick up her plate and walk around the house with it. I don't doubt that they make some sort of sticky plate or suction-cup-to-the-table bowl that would make my life easier, but I haven't actually pursued those avenues yet, being only on day two of breakfast and lunch messes.
No sooner do I put the plate down than Madelyn is toddling off toward the living room, compartmentalized dish in hand, leaving a trail of bite-sized pieces of pineapple, cubes of carrots, and tiny chunks of chicken in her wake. Jameson is never far behind, quick to be the enforcer of house rules, shrieking
"Awwww, Madelyn! You make mess! Mom, look what baby doing! Baby, STOP!!!"
Ugh. Jameson, no tattling. Madelyn, go sit on your bum. Hey, who wants to help mommy vacuum?!
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