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Monday, February 28, 2011

Germ Playground: And My Child's Playroom of Choice....


The Bathroom. Our Bathroom. [Yes that is a washer in the bathroom. Dryer is the kitchen. Shut up.] I don't know what secret appeal this room holds for Elena. Perhaps it's the apparently never-ending roll of toilet paper, the porcelain bowl with water [which I have so far succeeded in keeping her from], or the cords from my hair dryer and straightener. Or perhaps daytime makes her reminiscent of her fun night-time baths, and she likes to relive the moments and memories. But I cannot keep her from this room. Seriously. It's ridiculous. She's even learned to open the door if it's not perfectly latched shut.
She saw a window (or "Door" rather) of opportunity, and raced to take advantage. I always know when she's headed for the bathroom because she starts crawling much faster.

The tub makes for good support so she can dance and dance. [aka, squat up and down quickly]

Waving to me. And I think she seems just a bit smug about having gotten to her favorite destination without being intercepted.

And no, we don't normally keep the Toilet Paper unraveled like that. Courtesy of Elena.

The down squat part of the dance....

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