My Whirlwind

My dear "spirited sprout," Rosebud, has always been a bundle of energy.
I've chronicled her craziness on this blog before, such as her daily toddler adventures, mostly involving water (or pee).
The other morning I noted all the activities and "good ideas" that she had in a three hour period.  It was amazing to me -- what a girl!

At 7:45, directly after rising, she peels and eats an orange.

She dashes off eight pieces of artwork -- different pastoral scenes -- and then sets up a table with a sign reading "Artwork for Sale" and charges "$1 or 1 cent" per piece.  Mommy and sisters buy artwork.



The sale is a short one, because then she wants to go and listen to an audiobook.

Breakfast is ready.  She gobbles it down.  (No time for nonsense!)

She does three workbook pages in her new Explode the Code workbook.

She spots a package on the front porch, which she opens and then starts jumping on the packing air sacks.

She finds a grocery bag to hop in around the house -- "like a potato sack race!"
Then she tries it with a scarf wrapping around her feet.

She runs outside to kick a soccer ball around, trying to see if she can kick it over the house.

She runs inside with a great idea!  "Can I make dough?"  (Aka, a little flour and water mixed up and played with/eaten)

She is told to do two things first -- empty the silverware and record her school work in her work journal.

She spends two minutes looking for her lost journal.  Gives up, starts emptying the silverware.

"Now can I make dough?"

She starts looking for the work journal again.

She gets distracted by the box that had come earlier and jumps on it repeatedly.

She goes to the basement to look some more, starts bouncing on the bed down there.

She comes back up in despair 30 seconds later.  "I can't fiiiiind it!  But I LIKE my work journal!"

She goes to her room, and Sparky is found standing on her sewing project from yesterday, which is half-finished and filled with pins.

She becomes distraught -- she knows that making sure pins and needles are put away is ALWAYS a condition for being allowed to sew -- and falls on the floor crying.  "What a bad idea!  I'm not sewing ever again!"

Mommy suggests a place to look for the work journal.  It is there.  She cries harder.  "This is a bad day for meeee."

Recovers shortly after a hug, gets work journal and starts walking to the kitchen to look up the date.

She sees some batting left out from Turtle's project and starts playing in it, exclaiming over its fluffiness.

Then she starts staring at Turtle's work and messing with it.  (Turtle has been steadily doing one project for the whole morning.)

Finally she sits on the kitchen floor to write in the journal.

By the time Mommy gets to the kitchen, she is done and the journal is put away, minus some of the components she was supposed to include.

She gets out the flour to "make dough," humming cheerily.

It is only 11:00 am