L-I-B-B-Y spells Trouble!

The other day we all went to the park. Libby ran her Grandpa ragged while my mother-in-law and I sat on the swings and talked. We stayed for about an hour and had a great time. Lunch was ready soon after we got home and we all sat down to eat. Libby started nodding off over her tacos and chips and soon decided the high chair was NOT where she wanted to be! I took her to bed and laid her down, thinking she'd go right to sleep. I went back to the kitchen and finished my lunch, chatted a bit, then decided to go lay down and rest. I opened the bedroom door and there was Libby, shirt up, permanent marker in hand, belly black as pitch. And her shirt. And her Grandma's desk drawer. Oh no, oh no, oh no. I didn't care about the belly, was a little bummed about the new shirt, but was devastated by the state of the desk. I tried scrubbing with soap and water and didn't make much progress. My mother-in-law came in with rubbing alcohol and was able to get all the marker off the wood, along with the finish. But it looks better than it did before.

Libby has learned to open the doors here. She knows our travel snacks are stored in the laundry room, so she sneaks in a few times a day and comes out with M&M's, Skittles, fruit snacks, etc. She never comes out with the raisins or granola bars. Go figure.

The other day her Grandma found her climbing up on the bathroom counter trying to get at the toothbrushes. She helped Libby wash her hands (an acceptable alternative to brushing teeth 10 times a day) then turned around and walked out, expecting Libby to follow her. When she turned back around, Libby was nowhere to be seen. We found her in the bathtub, shirt up, rubbing soap on her belly and saying "so, so, so".


But then other times she sits on Grandpa's lap and watches the cows:

All in moderation, I guess.