So OK, I admit it. I was the one who taugh Olive to say Shit. Unintentionally of course, but she parroted it back to me nonetheless. Nothing makes you feel like a good parent quite like your toddler swearing. She's been quite feisty lately; her temper is starting to rear its ugly head. We haven't had too many instances of it, but she is quickly catching onto the "go limp" technique when you want her to stand up or put on her coat. I guess that comes with the territory. I heard someone say that trying to dress a child was like trying to stuff an octopus in a net bag without any of the arms getting out. I get that now.

This last weekend she was in serious "Daddy Girl" mode, which was frustrating. We were at the grocery store and she kept pushing my hands off the cart and saying, "No, Daddy turn!" and freaking out if Marc left her sight for a nano second. I know, I can't let myself get offended by a toddler, but it's like, "What up? What did I do to you?" Marc swears that when I'm not around she asks for me all the time. I guess I'll take his word for it. I need to learn to chill out and just roll with things a little bit better.

Well, we got a nice respite from the cold on Saturday. It was 70 degrees here and it was blissful. We played in the backyard, moved the compost pile, dug up a dead tree to make room for the sour cherry tree I ordered. It's all very exciting. We went to the Y and went swimming in the morning, and then walked a loop around Lake Montebello. In the mean time, I am trying to keep the gardening obesssion under control for a few more weeks.