She’s just driving us crazy. Luckily, Tara is taking the brunt of it. I had to get out and walk around town in the freezing cold, just for the sake of getting out. I was at least useful, coming back with some groceries.
Elizabeth’s sweet as can be and very playful most of the time, but she turns on a dime. The main problem is just keeping her entertained/distracted … constantly.
After her most recent crying fit, she “apologized” by breaking out the photo album and pointing to a picture of the three of us. She pointed at me and said, “You are my papa.” She pointed over at Tara and said, “She is my mama.” I said, “Yes, very good. And you are my daughter.” She really liked that. This was all in Russian, of course. That was the first time I’d trying saying that sentence to her. I was never sure how well it would go over. She calls me “mama” or “uncle” half the time. I don’t really care what she calls me, just so long as we get along.