Lately, John has taken to calling her Sweet & Sour, since her little girly moods seem to swing from saccharine adorable--kisses and hugs, sweetness and rainbows--to raging cranker--biting her brother and clawing at your face and eyes. And the screams, by god, have only grown more sophisticated and noxious as she's transformed from a chubby infant into a sprinting toddler.
"Sweet and Sour, changes by the hour...," we sing to her during her meltdowns, which have lately included throwing herself on the floor and flinging her head backwards to express her frustration/dissatisfaction/general disgust at the unrefined humanity of it all. Thankfully, her mood quickly changes from stinky back to stellar when presented with the appropriate snack/book/bottle/lap and we're soon reminded of just how much fun kids can be and why we wanted two of the little buggers in the first place.
During the Sweet times Shea becomes chatty, showing off her newfound vocabulary that now includes about 30 words--many of which are even recognizable by people other than John, Finn and me. My favorite new word she's mastered is HAPPY (I have no idea where she picked this up; maybe it's her interpretation of my favorite word: coffee), which she says over and over again, like a self-instructional ticker-tape mantra reminding her to Remain in Light.
"HappyHappyHappyHappy," she sings to herself as she walks from room to room, looking for the next toy to stand on, book to look at for three seconds then throw on the floor, or snack to poach from her brother.