Tziporah the Hun

I am living with an 18-pound conqueror.  She is a downy-haired, rosy cheeked warrior, as fearless as she is fragile.  For exercise, she escapes out the front door, scootches backwards down the hill on the side of the house and climbs the back stairs, toddling through the house like she owns it, on her way out the front door.  If you dare interrupt this ritual, she will cackle at you like a swarm of angry chipmunks.

I get the same Chipmunk chastisement when I pry a marker out of those freakishly strong fingers.  Tziporah sees no reason not to color on the floor, walls, furniture and clothing any time she is lucky enough to get her hands on something with a less-than-secure lid.  And that's when she's not sucking on a razor, trying to plug in a lamp or standing on the back of the couch, all of which happened within a five-minute time frame while I was - thankfully- actually watching her.

Besides conquering the known world, Tziporah's hobbies include reaching up to rifle around the desktop for interesting gadgets, looking at pictures on my phone, shunning anything resembling an actual toy and bolting for the door like a hyper chihuahua whenever it opens.

When someone holds her, it's not enough for her to be up high in your arms.  She wants to be higher.  She uses her tiny feet to shimmy and climb, scrambling up your chest until she is perched on your shoulder, looking out over the untamed wilderness that is a suburban household, or wherever you happen to be.  Heaven forbid she should be trapped in her carseat without anything to do.  She can execute quite a convincing fake tantrum, throwing her head back in boredom, screaming, and then peeking at you to see if you have registered her complaint.

My job is to make sure this little blob of determination stays safe and alive until her body catches up with her ambition.  I am absolutely certain that this is a job I could never do alone, not even with the help of Scott and six vigilant siblings.  There are angels - fast, attentive, sprightly angels - watching over Tziporah, and they are probably exhausted, just like everyone else in the family.  Except, of course, Tziporah!