The Terminator!

Oh Miss Lillian, REALLY?

Do you have to act like an almost three year old? Making a mess where ever you go? Leaving a path of destruction, chaos, debris scattered, clothes strewn about, food crumbled for ants to gather 'round to stay, jump off furniture, climb onto counters and high places that are death defying, get into cupboards that are full of "poison." OH! Speaking of that "p" word.  You seem to like to find that.

You know you are not suppose to touch it, go near it or even look at it, yet you go right for it just to TEST it out at times. (Mommy should know better than to have had that there, shame on me.)

All Mommy needed was her workout. You and Hannah do so well every morning playing in your room with the door open every other morning of the week. Why was it different yesterday? Why did you have the need to go into the bathroom and clearly say "poison" and then proceed to touch the bleach tablet and tell your sister all about it. Oh, and then rub your eye balls? Why my love? Oh that is right, because you are almost three years old and you are my Terminator. It is what you do. You are my curious soul.

You sent my heart into a panic. Instant blood shot eyes, red hands and you were screaming. (Though I am not sure who was screaming louder, you or me.) I know you were mad at me for washing you hands so vigorously and then turning you upside down (almost) and holding your eyes open and forcing water into them for so long, but it is all I knew to do.

Maybe you will never remember any of this, but if you do maybe you will remember how cool you looked riding to the ER in your sunglasses and waiting in the ER with those shades on. Everyone comments on how cool you looked. If only they knew WHY I had you have them on. I was terrified if you took them off the light would make your eyes worse, you would rub your eyes or your eyes would blister or something.

That "something" never happened. You were checkout to be perfect. Seems your mommy is pretty good at forms of "torture" (at least that is what your sisters like to call it) and got enough water into your eyes fast enough. I am praying you are young enough to not remember a whole lot, but old enough to know NEVER to touch "poison" again.

You are my Terminator. Though all my babies were at this age. Guess mommy should know not to ever let her hair dawn for a split second, EVER. Thanks for the jump start to my ticker on a rainy, dreary, Monday morning baby girl.