18 Months Old!

She may be 18 months old, but our darling daughter thinks she is 18 years old.  Miss Thang has developed quite an attitude lately - it's her way or the highway.  She resorts to fake cries, ear piercing screams and full blown, throw her body on the ground in a fit of rage temper tantrums.  She also fake coughs and fake sneezes to either draw even more attention to her attention-starved self and/or mock those who are actually coughing and sneezing.  Ah, the joys of the terrible twos.

Actually, while PK Drama has her moments, she really is a good girl.  She is enthusiastically exploring her vocabulary now - mimicking every sound we make and adding better pronunciation of words like "Mommy" and "Daddy" instead of Mama and Dada.  Speaking of Daddy, Peyton adores hers, and in her mind, he is her savior who can do no wrong.  As I alluded to in my opening paragraph, we've had a few behavioral challenges, which has led us to expose Peyton to the dreadful "timeout."  Only one glitch: Mommy is the only one who ever actually puts Peyton in timeout.  In fact, the last time I did so she screamed "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy" the whole time - as if her knight in shining armor would rescue her from her wretched, evil Mother subjecting her to the torture chamber.

Here is this month's winning picture:

And the out takes:

Mommy and I are having creative differences this month.  She wants smiley and cute (boring!) and I want demure and mysterious.

'Sup, suckaz?!!

Daddy, I'm not laughing with you, I'm laughing at you.  Dork.

Did you say raise my left or right arm if I'm done with this stupid stinking photo session?

Please kill me now.  How many pictures could you possibly need to take?

Peter the Rabbit, Scotty the Bear and I are unionizing.  No more pictures until you give me some apple juice.