It's Tea Time

This week Bob and I thought it was time to set up her little table and chairs so that she could have some tea with her favorite bear, "Picnic."  We are somewhat short on space, but I don't want her to miss out on all the fun.

Her first tea companion was her Daddy.

They had waffles and water last Sunday.  Bob looks like a lanky giant in the little chairs, but he knows how important tea time is with his little girl and wouldn't miss the opportunity to sit in those peanut chairs.  They shared their strawberry jam and waffles.  It was precious.

The next day was Picnic's time for tea.  Lily sat Picnic in her little chair, got some cupcakes and "coppee" (coffee) and had a grand ole time.  It is precious to watch her grow.

Lily is so independent these days and wants to do everything by herself.

 When she is not rearranging the furniture, blowing bubbles or having tea parties, she finds the funniest places to chill.  I found her in my laundry basket with my phone and pillow the other day.

 You know, just hangin' out catchin' up on her Facebook, and text messages.  What 22 month old doesn't really?

Much to Bob's great delight she is entering into an all-about-daddy stage where he has hung the moon.  Every morning after I go in to wake her up get her dressed and "do hair," she rushes into our bedroom to find Daddy only to immediately inform him, "Juice, milk, Daddy Honol, Daddy work, Daddy kiss, Daddy hug, Make ben (make bed), Daddy shower" and so on.  Until Bob leaves on his "Bycle" for work Lily is constantly reminding him that he needs his "honol" and that she needs a kiss.  Oh and a hug.  Throughout the day she will run into her bathroom and say "Booble Bath, Daddy Come."  You can guess who give her a bath at night.  She is constantly talking about him and worried over him.  I discovered her on the porch yesterday morning like this.

She pulled out Daddy's bicycle pump, put his shoes on and proceeded to pump up and down successfully adding more pressure to the air around her.  Boy, little girls and their Daddys.

One of the biggest discoveries that we are making about our little progidy is that she is like me more than like Bob.  She is not thrilled with change, hates messes of any kind and worries herself silly if something is amiss or not "normal."  This week we walked out to the car only to discover that my back window had been blown out.

 I had to put Lily in her seat to get a picture, but by the time I got back to her she was nearly inconsolable with worry.  "Mommy, mess, caw, mess, Mommy, mess, car, pic (fix)."  Oh she was worried.  Whenever we would take her by the care with the broken window she would cry, and literally start shaking.  It didn't matter how calm I was or how much we talked her through it, it was different, scary, not normal and very traumatic.  Even after we got the window fixed she was still very unsure and the moment she saw the wipers turn on, she completely lost it.  It was like the grim reaper had come.  She acted the way I feel when things are out of place.  I get it Lily, my dear, I don't like the window broken either!