Pens

Addra is addicted to pens. Everywhere we go in the house, she finds them. They are almost the first thing she picks up in the morning and usually the first thing she sets down at night. And, to be completely honest, she sometimes doesn’t bother with that lat step. One night she fell asleep with one in each hand.

She can find a pen anywhere, even when I think an area is safe—suddenly she has another one! She also notices when I put them up high on a shelf, and she reaches up and squeals until I appease her.

To keep our house safe, we are constantly having to find pens that are impervious to her growing skills. She has already learned to uncap some, and she can click those clicky ones. Of course crayons and pencils are right out—they’re not only implements of writing destruction, but they are also suspiciously like food.

Yesterday I let her actually use a bright purple marker. The moment it touched the paper and she saw the streak of color cross the page, she was delighted. She looked up at me with the biggest grin on her face, and she giggled. Then she continued to jab the marker at the paper and wave it around. The results were quite artistic.

We read a book recently in which four things are set before a baby on her one-year birthday. Conclusions are drawn about her future career path based on what she reaches for first. I must say that, based on this idea, Addra is definitely going to be a writer. Maybe next year she can do NaNoWriMo with me. Granted, most of her words will look suspiciously like “adf;an;ogd,” but you’ve gotta start somewhere.