Beware the sound of silence
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Birdy is whole heartedly at the age where silence in my house means something very mischievous must be happening somewhere.
It's no longer innocent either.
And it usually involves markers.
You'd think I'd learn by now to keep the markers out of reach. And actually, I'm pretty sure I've made some rule about keeping markers in the metal can and keeping the can on top of the bookshelves in the school room.
But when everyone else in the house is up to their elbows in daily art projects and sign-making for bedroom doors, and charts, and secret club sign-up sheets, it's hard to remember to always put the markers away. I guess.
I've learned that the first place to check for her is under tables. If they're covered in a tablecloth, even more secretive and ideal.There will generally be a small collection of toys that don't belong to her. And a marker. Coloring her cheeks used to be her thing. Now, she colors her cheeks and lips, but quickly moves on to decorating the toys, too.
She has also decorated the sofa arm. And inside the towel cupboard in the bathroom. And of course the walls. I've come to expect the wall-decorating.
She highlighted the bookshelf in the living room. As well as running that same highlighter along the binding of each of Dan's books on the top shelf. How kind of her. We appreciate her hard highlighting work, we do.
Two nights ago, after her bath, she discovered the joys climbing into the dryer. To be honest, I'm surprised it's taken her this long to make the discovery. She's a child who likes a "house" to engage in all her mischievous work. It used to a cupboard in the bathroom. My clue would be the towels all over the bathroom floor. And the closed cubpoard doors. And the silence.
But two nights ago when she realized she could very easily climb into the dryer, and it fit several stuffed animals, and it echoed when you squealed inside? She was sold.
When I hung up after a phone call yesterday and realized the house was silent, I began the (slightly panicked) search for Birdy. She doesn't answer when I call for her (something we're working on). And Mary couldn't find her upstairs. I couldn't find her downstairs. Or outside.
Eventually she was discovered in the dryer.
These are probably things I shouldn't admit openly. Losing track of my toddler. Or the damage she does while unattended. But this Birdy is a firecracker. She moves to the beat of her own drum. Determined. Strong-willed. All those things.
And as of six days ago, facing the world as a newly crowned two year old. Here we go.
, a (rare) cleared-off kitchen table and complete and utter free-reign to cut, paste, write, draw, glue and (make a giant mess) my girls have fallen in love with scrapbooking. 
