My little mommy

Elizabeth loves to help.  A lot of times, you can sidestep a fit by diverting her attention with a task to complete.  She can close doors, turn off the tv, turn on and off lights (this morning, she realized she could turn her closet light on by standing on a chair) and OF COURSE take care of the baby.  Scott has her "fireman carry" the diaper genie bags full of dirty diapers (gross) to the trash can, where she hoists it up and throws it in.  Yesterday, I caught her carrying a brand new pack of overnight diapers the same way.  She marched right in the kitchen and threw them away.  Nice...

This morning, I was trying to get Rachel in her carrier to go to the Y and I kept hearing this noise coming from the bathroom.  I walked in and she had the toilet brush in hand and was sloshing it around the commode.  So much for having her shadow me during my cleaning.  My sympathetic husband commented that, "at least she was using the brush..." True...

So yesterday, I was putting clothes out on the line and Elizabeth was with me, running around the yard.  She came over and started rummaging through the baskets (a lot of it was her clothes...go figure) so I decided to use the little mommy to my advantage and get her to hand me the wet clothes.  "Honey, can you hand me that wet sock?"   Nothing...pulling out dry and clean pajama bottoms.  "That pink sock, right on top...can you give it to me?"  She now sits down on the ground and attempts to pull on the PJ bottoms over her dirty Dora light up sandals.  No eye contact.  "Elizabeth!  Don't you want to help mommy hang out clothes?"  She looks at me, says "No," and runs off through the yard, one foot in the now filthy pajama bottom.

Is it too soon to tell her I hope she has three just like her??