You can tell from this picture that Grandma is peekabooing to the side of Grandpa because he is too tall for her to peekaboo over his shoulder. Hence the direction of the childrens' un-photoshopped grins. Henry (at five months) currently weighs a couple of pounds shy of what Grace weighed at age one.
Grace thinks I am an awesome mom. She hasn't said, "Mom, you are awesome," or anything, but I can tell. I'm sure she thinks it all the time, but I can tell because she will imitate any of my behavior, bad or good. That means I don't do anything that I might perceive as rotten that she perceives as so low as beneath her. She has no problem rebuking me or telling me what she WILL or WILL NOT do.
"You will NOT color on the furniture!"
"I NEED you to be quiet so Henry can go to sleep!"
"I NOT take a nap!"
"I NOT eat cereal!"
"I NOT wear battle shorts!" (Alex taught her that her orange shorts are her battle shorts. Thanks babe.)
"I NEED a drinka milk!"
"I NEED a go to gramma's house!"
It's really such a relief that all my yelling is molding her into a miniature of myself rather than a scarred child who has serious mother-baggage.