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Addison is a force of nature.

Albeit a two-gin-martinis-too-many-kind-of-force, but that would account for the expulsion of bodily fluids coupled with the tornado of household products strewn about the floors.

She is running. I repeat, R-U-N-N-I-N-G. As in swift (although hardly nimble) forward motion on two legs to escape parental grasp and fling herself near oncoming traffic, or the edge of our patio, or bodies of water. I counted 10 new gray hairs just today.

I wish I were kidding.

And she’s talking. No, demanding. And getting her hands into drawers, or her entire person into compararents not intended for babies (as exhibited by the video below, although perhaps that cage is exactly where she belongs. I mean, we put Hanna in there when we don’t want her destroying my VERY pretty, very expensive shoes from my rehearsal dinner. Woops! Too late on that front. Fucking dog.)

Sunny throws herself to the ground and weeps dramatically into the floor when we don’t give her exactly what she wants, right this instant! Her limited vocabulary of “DAT!” often makes it difficult to understand which DAT! she means, which just causes the volume and frequency of DATs to escalate. She’s like an American tourist in a foreign land, shrieking loudly and more violently everytime we don’t understand her bumbling attempts at our language.

NO COMPRENDO, KIDDO!

In one week, I board a plane. And fly across the country with her. Without James.

I’m now balled up in a corner weeping quietly into my knees.

If we both come out of this experience alive I’ll be amazed. And very clearly deserving of that #2 Animal Style awaiting my belly at the nearest In-n-Out.

Hm. In-n-Out, that’s enough motivation to survive the flight. And the cuteness of my three girls together. That’s pretty great motivation too.