I can't help but smile...

Dear Atticus,

     You are by far the most curious baby in our little familia.  You're constantly getting into mischief.  
Exhibit A:  When you can't reach something you simply scoot chairs, books, benches, stools, potty seats, etc. and stack them until you can reach what you want.  In this case the jar of candy on top of the piano.

Exhibit B:  You love playing with things you know you're not supposed to.  One of your favorite places is on top of Papa's desk.

Exhibit C:  Just because you have two older sisters doesn't mean it's okay for you to wear makeup and it's certainly not okay to put it on by yourself.

Exhibit D:  Eyeliner as lipstick?  Refer to exhibit C.

Exhibit E:  You love to strip, anywhere and everywhere.  Including but not limited to; the tire store, the grocery store, soccer games and the car.  Now that you are potty trained and wear big boy undies it's even worse.

Exhibit F:  You love to help yourself to your brother and sisters candy, toys, art projects and anything else they've unsuccessfully tried to hide from you.

Exhibit G:  If you could live outside you would.  I don't blame you, I like to play in the dirt too.

Exhibit H:  You like to make your own impromptu art projects with whatever you find lying around the house.  Milk turns into paint, a bushel of bananas turns into play-doh, a pair of pants turns into a snowflake after you've taken the scissors to them and chap-stick turns into markers. 

Exhibit I:  Anytime you're hungry or thirsty you take matters into your own hands.  In your opinion, nothing is off limits.  That includes stranger's coffee at soccer games. 

You are a tornado that leaves a wake of destruction, but I can't help but smile.  Maybe it's because you're the baby or because I think curiosity fosters creativity and learning.  

You get in trouble daily but it's hard to stay mad at you for long.  This is the typical scenario when you do something naughty:  You grasp my neck or leg and then you look at me with those big brown eyes and repeat over and over on your way to timeout, "I sorry mama.  I sorry mama."  It's a good thing you're such a happy, content, loving child or I may have lost my wits a long time ago.

Love, Mama