My Wild Child

A few years ago, my sister asked me if we were going to buy some child safety locks for the doors in our house so that Camden wouldn't escape and roam the neighborhood without supervision. I shook my head, explaining to her that Camden would never even consider going outside without us. That was true then, and it's still true today. At almost 4 years old, Camden will occasionally open the front door to peek out, but will never so much as stick a toe outside without permission.

Things are a little different this time around. Miss Macey Jean-- my 16 pound peanut-- is as adventurous as they come. Physically, Macey is a clone of me; she is almost identical to the toddler staring up at the camera my mom held in the early 80's. However, that's where the similarities end. I've mentioned before that Camden inherited my temperament: he's a little reserved and slow to warm up to new people; he's cautious and observes before jumping in to a new activity; he's thoughtful and sensitive; he's a rule follower and a people pleaser. Macey, on the other hand, seems to have inherited her daddy's carefree disposition. She's never met a stranger, she adapts easily to new surroundings, she's feisty and can hang with the big boys. Basically, she's fearless. Which is awesome-- while it's totally foreign to me, I absolutely love her personality. But it also means that she keeps me on my toes in a way her big brother never did.

The other day, I had the kids out front while we waited for Matt to get home from work. Macey was exploring the grass, then moved along to strolling down the sidewalk, with Camden and I following closely behind. During our little walk, we ran into some new neighbors who had just moved in a few houses down. While I chatted with the neighbors, I had to stop every third word to grab Macey, who repeatedly made a beeline for the street, simply because I had told her not to; the word "no" makes anything and everything more enticing to Macey. Meanwhile, Camden stood dutifully by my side.

This morning, in a span of 10 minutes, I found Macey in the following places: digging through the trashcan (later, I had to recover a pair of Camden's shorts from said trashcan); heading towards the toilet with a Matchbox car; and climbing on top of the kitchen table because she was absolutely certain that Camden's bowl of cereal would taste a little bit better with her toes in it.

I can't even begin to tell you how many pieces of furniture we've relocated or removed from the house because they were climbing hazards for our little monkey. I can't count the number of times I've sent a text to my mom or Matt with a picture attached and the caption "Look what I just found..." (last night, it was a picture of 3 pairs of Camden's underwear stuffed into a drawer in the dining room). We've also found some of Camden's beloved toys in the diaper trash can and shoved down into a cereal box in the pantry. Luckily, Camden finds Macey's shenanigans pretty hilarious. And, even though having a highly spirited child means that downtime is non-existent for me these days, I have to admit that I spend a good portion of every day laughing at her antics and wondering what her next move will be.

I adore this little girl.