Avery stood atop her high chair banging at the window when I got home. She stopped momentarily to look at me. Then she resumed her pounding.
As ever, Avery remains the PITA Girl. She’s graduated to different forms of trouble recently. She pulls empty cans out of our recycling bin and walks around the house with empty Cokes hanging from her teeth. She bangs cabinet doors against each other. She’s doing it right now. It’s amazing. She learned to open the door to the washer and dryer and has programmed fake loads of laundry. She turns off my computer – while I’m using it. She’s not just a daughter, she’s an adventure.
Aside from these hobbies, she still very much enjoys eating. She’s a snacker like her mother, but also big meal hunter like her dad. She knows exactly what she likes and doesn’t like just like her mom, but also eats a ton of what she likes like her dad. I really is the best and worst of both worlds.
She loves spinning in quick circles until she makes herself dizzy. One of her favorite pastimes is running into a room until she slaps her hands against a wall. Then, she’ll turn around and run into another room until she slaps another wall. She can go on like that. It’s really funny when her sprints get Cole rile up and he starts running around, too. But he never runs nearly as long as Avery. She loves wide open spaces. Last Sunday morning we took the kids to the new play area at Ala Moana. Rather than explore or climb, Avery took off jogging toward the front doors of the soon-to-be Target. The day before she jogged throughout the water park. She could spend all day going up and down flights of stairs.
All the time we spent together this summer seems to have brought Avery and I closer. Lynnette is still far and away Avery’s favorite – don’t get me wrong – but Avery seeks me out more often. She enjoys when I tote her around the house and open the pantry so she can get a good look at all the snacks on the top shelf. She cackles when tossed into the air. She and I have wrestling matches; I hit her with the AA, muscle buster, powerbomb, German suplex, and the Pefect-plex. She squeals the entire time. She laughs so hard that she drools all over me. If I put her down to catch my breath, she yells, runs into my legs, and shoves herself into me in order to get me going again. I’m her favorite so long as Lynnette isn’t around. I can live with that. Lynnette’s my favorite, too.