Lately, my daughter has impressed me with her myriad of new skills. Proper use of pronouns (Happy Birthday to ME, and MINE!), writing the first letter of her name, and singing a rousing rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star on permanent loop.
Okay. She's brilliant. I know.
But then, she does that stuff that reminds me she's just a regular old 2-year old. Like munching on crayons, sticking her hand down her poopy diaper, and spitting out food when it's not of a perfect texture.
But her newly discovered trait that doesn't necessarily hint to her intelligence but more to the fact that she is indeed related to me is SLEEPWALKING.
Yes. My 2-year-old is a nomadic sleep zombie.
Of course, we would never have discovered this if we hadn't moved her to the toddler bed. Damn bed. But on too many occasions, I had to leap out of bed when she cried for fear she would attempt to crib dive yet again. So we relented and bought the big white plastic beast.
And while she loves it in theory, for sleep, not so much. Naps are down from 2-hours to 1-hour on a good day, and at night, she rolls around and moans and gets up to visit us way more than should be allowed by the sleeping Gods.
But then a few nights ago, I was watching Sex and the City reruns and I heard something rustling around in the bathroom. Come to find her searching through the cabinet under our sink and asking for her toothbrush.
Confused, I put her back in bed and she fell right back asleep.
Then just yesterday, my husband and I were out watching some god awful reality show I will leave nameless and found her in our duct tape/change cabinet in the kitchen. (Yes, we have a duct tape change cabinet - don't ask). Just playing with "the moneys" and trying to pull off a piece of tape.
Same thing. Back to bed and sound asleep.
It's really quite funny, considering I used to be the queen of sleepwalking. As a kid, I was the one who at sleep over parties would hop in bed with the host's parents on the way back from the bathroom - not making it back to my friend's room. Yeah. Great stories for weeks were told about my little snooze with the 'rents. Great. Lovely. NOT.
So, I'm not sure what I can do about this, except put a gate up in front of her door. And I figure, if this is the worst thing she inherits from me, then she's going to be just fine.