Go Speed Racer, Go!

Since she started walking back in June, my little girl is like a hummingbird on crack. My head spins when I watch her race from room to room. I jump around constantly trying to keep her out of harms way and sometimes fail. My body contorts itself in ways I never thought possible. I feel like Linda Blair without the whole possessed by the Devil part although the hubby would probably beg to differ.

Peeing has become an Olympic sport for me. While I’m doing my business, my little girl will walk into the bathroom and stick her hand in the garbage. I take her hand out. She opens up the sink cabinet. I take my foot and close it. She’ll start closing the bathroom door on her fingers. I grab the door just in time. You get the picture. I’ve become a ninja of sorts. My little girl is so hyperkinetic.

It wasn’t too long ago that I would lay her down somewhere and she would, GASP, stay put. In her early months I would have trouble finding the time to take a shower, do laundry, or anything that would require me to take my eyes off of her for a second because oh my gawd what if I missed out on her doing something!! Ahem. I look back and see how much time I did have and think to myself why the hell didn’t I take advantage of it because now, that ship has sailed.

*A big thanks to Stesha for help with my link issue!

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4 Responses to Go Speed Racer, Go!

  1. nic @mybottlesup July 6, 2010 at 19:59 #

    i’m pretty sure “a hummingbird on crack” has got to be THE BEST analogy ever. i’d definitely copyright that little gem, and pop it up as your tagline… “keeping up with a hummingbird on crack.”

    • Elle July 6, 2010 at 20:14 #

      I was actually going to take that part out b/c I didn’t want to sound weird but then I figured I AM weird so why not. Great idea about the tagline. Maybe I should put that under my twitter bio too.

  2. nic @mybottlesup July 7, 2010 at 08:19 #

    LOVE IT!!!!

  3. Abby July 6, 2011 at 08:54 #

    I remember these days…my son is 14 now, so instead of peeing while child-proofing, I get interrupted with “urgent” questions while in the bathroom. Questions like “What’s for dinner?” or, “What was the name of that song on the radio earlier when you were dancing around like a chicken?”

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