Recently, we were up in NWA for the wedding of my cousin, Seth, to Anna. We spent most of the day at the church waiting for the family picture (1) and then attending the wedding. Brooklyn has officially moved past the point where she will sit quietly for such events and must now be entertained or rather, supervised, while such events unfold with or without us. I watched the wedding from behind the safety of the sanctuary doors along with several other toddler moms. There is a sort of indifferent cameraderie that binds you to to other toddler moms. Once you establish the ages and names of your children, you each lapse into a sort of limbo - alternately keeping one eye on your child in case they should grab a stack of low lying programs and trying to pay the appropriate amount of attention to the ceremony. You're constantly coiled, ready to spring into action should your child grab a handful of another child's hair or worse, topple the table bearing the wedding programs. Brooklyn immediately established herself as a ringleader and went up to a set of twins nearby and belted out her standard "HI!", before immediately plunging her finger into one of the boys mouths. His mother yelped and lunged, but I was quicker. Brooklyn's feet were in the air before she knew what had happened. Apparently, this guy was a biter and I wasn't a moment too soon.

Brooklyn then took turns playing a game I like to call "Weeble Wobble" where she would alternately knock down each of the twins. They would immediately pop back up, giggling and jostle into position to be the next one knocked down. And to think I sometimes wonder if she can hold her own. I was so proud. Fortunately, the twins' mom and dad thought it was hysterical.