- instead of a simple high five, she's now down with the knuckle pound (possibly the highlight of my parenting career).
- calls the lights in her room "ambients" just like on the Madagascar DVD. As in, "You forgot to turn off the ambients, Mom."
- climbs every-frickin-thing: tree shrubs, tables, kitchen counters, bathroom sinks, chairs leading to even higher places. Also seems to take great pride in hanging from said places.
- continues to say the word hate. She learned it from Nemo, so I can't blame the preschool hooligan. Nemo tells his dad he hates him before he is whisked away to the dentist's fish tank and later recants. The Girl on the other hand is fond of saying, "I don't hate you, Mom. I don't hate you," or "unintelligible mumble, mumble, mumble, hate" which is followed by me asking what she just said, and her answering "Nothing."
- working on her Spanish vocab, she now calls me mamacita, naps are siestas, and parties fiestas. Thank you Skippyjon Jones.
- she finally mastered saying San Francisco after calling it San Franskinsko more than a few times.
- every baby she sees is immediately labeled "adorable."
When she is not making me laugh, she is secretly trying to kill me.