Grabby hands

So, nothing is safe anymore. She has two capable hands, and she’s not afraid to use them. We’ve reached the stage in which holding the baby and also trying to drink my morning tea or from my water bottle or eat my dinner or put on lip stuff or pretty much bring anything near my face will not end well.
She spilled water all over both of us when she gave the screw-top lid to my water bottle a surprise yank. She knocked my tea cup over when I was foolish enough to leave it within reach last time we were sitting together at the table. She has learned she loves spoons and forks and napkins and tubes of lip stuff, and she likes leaning over to check them out on the floor (after she hurls them) even more. This is quickly becoming one of her go-to moves, that standard baby game of hey mom, pick this up, so I can throw it again. Quick!
She studies her big brothers and sister, and this girl is motivated to make stuff happen. Cue frustration when she can’t maneuver something to her mouth or she drops something when she didn’t mean to or I won’t share my tea. She’s big into sharing these days, and her excitement is so freaking adorable when we let her have water from our cups. It’s like she’s drinking from a bucket, proportion-wise, but she has the mechanics figured, even if the finesse still escapes her. She gets her plump little starfish hands in place and slobbers all over the edge and gets so excited about the whole thing that she starts kicking.
The whole house is on alert—no hot beverages around baby girl. Nothing you don’t want sucked on within arm’s reach. She’s totally untrustworthy and into absolutely everything. Let’s just say changing poopy diapers is a challenge these days.