Just One Load Please?

In hopes to get just one load of laundry done this morning, I plop Chelsea in her crib with a few trains she had been playing with and her beloved baby. I hurry downstairs. Of course there are clothes in the dryer that need to be folded, so I carefully fold them, sorting into piles as I go. I hear a train fall to the hardwood floor in Chelsea's room. Then another one goes. Soon I know she'll have all of her toys out of her crib. Then, I hear silence for a moment followed by a sound I was not expecting. Footsteps. It doesn't take long for me to assess the situation. We're home alone, Logan's at school, and I know Ryan is working.

That little stinker. I throw the rest of the clothes in the laundry basket and head for the stairs with my laundry. There she is at the bottom of the stairs with a grin from ear to ear, proud of her accomplishment. I give her the look of surprise. "huh?" She immediately turns around and starts heading back up the stairs. Behind her I ask, "what happened? How did you get out of your crib?" She only makes it halfway up the stairs. She turns to me, bottom lip protruding an she melts into my arms. She's busted. She knows it.

I carry my lil angel upstairs. I'm proud that she's so darned strong, clever and coordinated, and I'm touched that she has the sense of right and wrong. She has feelings, and she feels deeply. Not so different from me and you.