Helena brought this gem home from daycare yesterday:
Fun with scissors.
Apparently she was really concentrated on this task. She obviously had a vision (pile of blocks) she was trying to define (cut out with scissors).
I didn't see the work of her peers, but I'm told Helena executed the task beyond educators' expectations. How she came to be adept with scissors I do not know. Honest.
She can be slow, meticulous with these kinds of projects (with anything, really — language, for instance), but only so she can get it just right.
It seems I gave birth to a perfectionist. Go figure. Certain hell lies ahead.
Compelling evidence that there is indeed a toddler living in the house:
Naptime for everybody.
The little comedian's big kick this week: fake snoring. She pretends it's naptime, worming her way through the pillows on my bed, wriggling her body down under the covers, and closes her eyes and snores. Then she opens her eyes to see if I'm watching and breaks into a grin.
Every day when she comes home from daycare, Helena fixes tea for the cats. I'm not sure they like the spoonfeeding so much, but they seem to appreciate the gesture, even if it is only imaginary cream served in tacky purple plastic cups.