22 Months

Look familiar? This is one of the many photos I took of Kumi on the day we went to the park and made a daisy crown. Her hair is getting so long and curly!

So my little girl is 22 months old now. Aside from her explosive vocabulary, Kumi surprised us with her love of singing. At any given time, you can hear her little voice belting out "Twinkle Twinkle liddle star, how I wudder you ARE!! Next time won't you come and sing with me?" It is quite possibly the cutest thing ever. She even tries to sing Japanese ditties, much to our delight.

Ah, but just as she is charming us with her off-key karaoke, she'll suddenly morph into a raging, bellowing, bawling mass of unhappiness ("Chucky," MF calls her at these times). These tantrums always shock me because they emerge out of seemingly nowhere. It must be so hard being a toddler; I realize that I spend more time telling her "no" than "yes" and try as I might, she seems to find ways to alarm and prompt more "no"s. Every outlet must be explored, and lately she's figured out she can reach for things like that awfully enticing seam ripper if she drags her little stool to my work area. Clever, clever child.

We've had a lot of illnesses this month. This meant that we frequently missed her favorite pastimes: music class, swimming class, play dates. No wonder she's had so many tantrums -- she's probably been bored out of her mind hanging out at home with the sniffles or, in one harrowing case, projectile vomit.

Even in the worst of moods, she seems to immediately lighten up as she removes her clothes. I desperately tried to keep her dress on when the plumber was here yesterday, but she slipped away from me to go greet him in all her naked glory. Here she is trying to take off her swimming suit:

And another cheerer-upper is the park. We've been spending more and more time at the numerous parks in our neighborhood at her insistence...

Kumi has definite opinions and dramatic displays of emotions. A staunch creature of habit, the first thing she says to me every morning is, "Diaper change" followed by, "Food. Toast and mango" (Funnily enough, she doesn't actually eat toast and mango very much, but she seems to think that's what breakfast is called). Sometimes she gets so happy and excited, the only way she knows how to express her intense joy is by biting. Owie, as we say around here.

But how can you not melt when she says sorry, then a second later forgets your agonizing pain and teethmarks and looks like this: