Shake What Your Mamma Gave Ya

Before becoming a mom, I used to buy the loudest and most obnoxious toys I could find as gifts for all the kids I knew.  I did it knowing the parents would hate me.  I'm evil like that, because honestly, as a young single girl, what did I care?  I now realize just how awful of a human being I was for doing that. (I should probably make a trip to confession for it very soon.)

Because it seems as though every toy manufactured nowadays is loud. Very loud.  (Makes me wonder if this is China's master plan: drive parents insane and pounce when we're at our weakest.)  Every toy literally has a bell or whistle on it.  They all require batteries.  Half of them come with an option on which language your child learns. 

And yet, I keep acquiring the loudest toys ever.  By my own choice.  (Read: I'm a masochist.)

I just got Elly a new toy.  It's one of those Leap Frog activity tables and it's got a million buttons and makes millions of noises.  What can I say?  I'm a hoarder.  And it's a good thing, because she LOVES it! 

It's possibly her new favorite toy!  She's so entertained by all the flashing lights and songs.  She stands, clinging to the table, and bounces along to the songs.  (I also do my part in singing along with it.)  And as she keeps dancing, I can't help but think... dear God, I hope this isn't a sign of the future: table dancing!

Because as she's standing there in only her diaper (because I don't feel like wrestling her into her onsie right this second), shaking and dancing all over the place, I can't help but worry.  I mean, maybe I've been watching Dena do the Jersey Turnpike one too many times in Italy.  Or maybe it's the flashbacks I'm having of dancing at Clutch Cargos (Pontiac!!!  What up!) that worries me.  Either way, her dancing scares me.

As I watch my daughter grow, I can't help but to be amazed at how similar she is to me.  How her funny little personality is a lot like mine already.  And then it hits me, I'm raising me and that's just scary! 

But on the other hand, she's only 8 months old.  What does she know about the bootypop? Until then Elly, just keep shakin' what your mama gave ya!