Remember this little girl I used to brag about? How she ate everything? I don’t think I ever wrote the post about how cute it was that she was loving eating everything out of little bowls.

She ate so delicately and with such thought. She brought to mind Albert in one of my all-time favorite children's books,
Bread and Jam for Frances:
"He took a bite of sandwich, a bite of pickle, a bite of hard boiled egg and a drink of milk. Then he sprinkled more salt on the egg and went around again. Albert made the sandwich, the pickle, the egg and the milk come out even." (Note to self: Order this book for kids. OK, for myself).
Well, she wasn't sprinkling salt on her egg or anything, but you get the picture. Anyway, it's too bad I didn't write about it because the thought and daintiness with which she ate was really cute. And too bad, because it’s over.
Ellie is in that new stage called Throw Everything On the Floor But First Mix it With Milk on the High Chair Tray. Oy.
I ask you, why do I ever even bother to mop the kitchen floors (truth be told it is barely a monthly occurrence if I’m lucky, but still!)
It seems that she hardly eats anything right now as she is too busy being Jackson Pollack with food. To be fair, she has a few staples: grape tomatoes, dehydrated strawberries (I know, weird), string cheese and her bottle. She’ll graze for a few minutes on the other stuff and then begins the wiping and the sweeping of everything from the high chair tray to the floor or onto the kitchen table. Lovely.
Sometimes I think my children were put on this Earth solely to make me chill the you know what out about the state of my house. I really have been trying to lower my standards. I don’t clean the toys in the living room up every night now. I don’t freak about piles. The one thing I’m a stickler for though is the dishes (I hate a sink full of dirty dishes but truthfully, I can’t go more than two days with out running the dishwasher because I need the little glass bowls and lids and sippy cups and bottles for packing lunches). And laundry. I don’t like to let that get out of hand. I don’t do it every day but I like to at least sort it every couple of days. Having those lovely piles of dark, white and “middle,” lined up neatly in the basement give me a delightfully deceptive delusion of order.
But back to the eating. I know this is typical for 16 months. Leo was a big time food thrower. I think it’s why our poor dog is about 20 pounds overweight. I was secretly hoping we might avoid the throwing with Ellie (as was, I imagine, our dog’s endocrinologist).
In the meantime, I am just not going to mop ever again. I mean, why bother?