Photos taken in September at The Farm about ten minutes from our home. Kate was 19 months old.
Jay's parents gave us a beautiful kitchen table as a wedding present, and, in keeping with the current style, it is counter-height. This means that anyone shorter than Jay or his likewise freakishly tall relatives looks like a hobbit when perched on our kitchen chairs. I've gotten used to feeling like a foot-dangling five year old during meal times. In the past month or so, Kate has taken to scaling these mini-Everests and wreaking havoc on whatever goodies were ill-advisedly left out on the table. Once, she created fractals with fistfuls of sugar, and the creases in her pants caused her to literally spread sweetness all over the house.
In a recent coup toward freedom and independence, she has also taken to dragging the heavy chairs across the dining room and all over the kitchen, their wooden legs screeching in protest against the tile floor, Kate's eyes barely peering over the elevated seat. She explores cupboards, counters, sink, and pantry with equal interest and ignorance of danger. We've had many a close shave with knives in drawers, raw chicken bits in the sink, and open pill bottles on the counter.
Parenting is an adventure.