A picture is worth a thousand words...

but unfortunately, I didn't have the heart (or the time) to take one.

The first missed photo-op was today on the playground. I was talking to other moms, and all of a sudden, it dawned on me that I didn't see Miller. I stopped and looked, and I didn't see her. I walked around the other side of the play structure, and there was my baby girl....her little hands gripping two high bars for dear life as her body dangled from the top of the play structure. She didn't muster a sound, as I'm sure all her energy went into holding on. I'm not sure how she got in that position, but if she had let go, she would have fallen a few feet. Not enough to get seriously hurt, but far enough to feel like she was really really high in a two year old's mind. I'm sure she didn't do it on purpose, but she sure as heck wasn't going to let herself fall, either. I sprinted to her and rescued her, and she broke down in tears. I have no idea how long she had been hanging, but we were both so thankful I found her just in time. (if it hadn't been so scary for her, it would have been a great picture)

Second missed photo-op:

We've (or maybe I've) been bragging about Miller's wonderful transition to the big girl bed. "She doesn't get out", "She stays in bed", "she's so trustworthy" etc. etc.

Usually, before we go to bed, one of us will go in there to check on her. Often, her head is at the bottom of the bed, her feet are towards the pillow, and there's a book buried somewhere. So we flip here around, tuck her in, and get her bears and binkie within reaching distance.

Tonight, as we were watching TV, we decided to check on her early because she was coughing and whining a little bit. When I went in there, I could not believe my eyes. There were books scattered all over her floor. And Miller, poor sweet coughing Miller, was sprawled out face down on the hardwood floor snoozing away with books all around her.

This could be the beginning of the end. She got out of bed AFTER we tucked her in. And she didn't tell us. And she was quiet as a mouse. T.R.O.U.B.L.E.