Hello! This is Elsa here.
I just had my 18-month birthday on Tuesday, but do you think my family made me a birthday cake or celebrated?. Noooooooooo. Apparently, we don't celebrate half-birthdays around here. What meanies.
Anyway, on Wednesday, I was lying on my mama's lap getting my morning nana (sometimes I call them nursies, but whatever you call it, it sure is yummy and I'm never, ever, ever, ever gonna wean) when I happened to look over at mommy's laptop and saw that she was reading a post written by a little boy, named Frankie. Well, that got me thinking. If a BOY can blog, I can too, so I decided that I better get started on this blogging thing myself. My two older sisters, Heidi and Greta, have their very own blogs, but their blogs are private, so only Grandma and a few other people get to read them. EVERYONE gets to read this blog post, so I'm going to be FAMOUS. I can't wait.
So, for my very first blog post, I'm going to tell you all about how hard my life is. Because, it's not easy being a toddler. Oh no, no, no. Everything thinks it's all sippy cups and stroller rides, but I have a tough life I tell ya. Here are 7 trials I have to suffer on a daily basis (and cause I want to be super famous, I'm going to link up with Mrs. Jennifer for her 7 Quick Takes Friday).
My big brother and sisters are always, always, always, always, playing this game.
And, they never, ever, ever, ever let me play. It's not fair. Every time I try to play, they pick me up and carry me away. Every time they do that I screech...just to let them know how displeased I am. I don't get why I can't play too. All they do is move pieces around the board. I can do that. I can even throw pieces off my board. I bet I can throw my pieces farther than anyone else.
I'm too short. Which means, I can't get whatever I want or need. Everyone else just gets them self a snack or a toy or a drink of water whenever they want. But, I can't reach. So, I have to climb to get everything. And, then I get in trouble.
But, I just give them this look, so they know I'm really innocent. Fools them every time.
My brother and sisters spend their time doing something weird called school. They complain about it a lot, but I think it looks super, super fun. They get to write in books. It looks like so much fun. But, if I try to do it, they just take the books and pen away from me. So, not fair.
This was supposed to be my big brother, John's page, but I did it for him. No one appreciated my hard work.
I can't talk, sure I can say a few words (mama, daddy, nana, Heidi, hot, Greta, my, ice, uh-oh, bye-bye), but I can't talk in sentences yet. Good thing I can type though. It's super frustrating not being able to talk. In fact, it's so frustrating, I can't quite articulate just how difficult it is (Aren't you impressed that I know a super big word like articulate? My daddy uses big words all the time, so that's how I learn them). Not being able to talk is just so difficult. I get so frustrated, I just have to scream sometimes and arch my back. I hope I learn to talk more soon, I have so many important things to say.
I'm always getting strapped down...into my high chair, into my carseat, into my stroller. And, you know what's so annoying about that. I CAN'T GET OUT WHEN I WANT TO.
Sometimes I like being in there...but when I want to get out and can't because I'm strapped down. Well, what's a girl to do, other than scream?. I have to exercise my vocal cords somehow. Plus, I want to make sure EVERYONE knows how displeased I am and that I need to be let out IMMEDIATELY. Isn't being strapped down considered torture or something??
No one appreciates my home decorating skills. They just get frustrated and mad at me. But, I think those books look better all over the floor, don't you?
Everyone is always laughing at me. Cause sometimes I look like this.
Or make faces like this,
Or look like this.
And, they just laugh at me. I don't get it. I'm not trying to be funny. Sometimes I just can't help being a messy eater. I hope you now understand just how hard and difficult my life is. Maybe I'll start to get a little more sympathy around here.