This shot of Sylvie enjoying her Thanksgiving dinner might be the last photo I ever get of her in her high chair.
She has fully embraced the concept of being a "big girl." It's funny how at a certain age they just instinctively start wanting to emulate the older kids - and start to reject the trappings of toddlerdom.
Sylvie MUCH prefers her new night-time pull-ups to her diapers, though in truth there is not much difference between them. Whereas she fights a diaper to the death, she's almost eager at night to put on her "big girl pants."
The latest casualty of this evolution seems to be her high chair. All of a sudden, any attempt to put her in it triggers a tantrum. "NO - THIS ONE!" she yells, pointing at either the stools that sit in front of our kitchen island or one of the kitchen table benches. More troubling is the fact that she's even rejected the booster seat, meaning that she eats precariously perched on either a stool or a bench, with her food on the table basically at eye level. It's a tough way to eat.
As between the two (the stools or the bench) I much prefer the bench - if only because from the bench it's a much shorter fall to the hard kitchen floor in case of a probably inevitable tumble.
So last night she insisted on the stools. She was sort of crabby (seems she's coming down with - surprise! - a cold), and so we relented. When she started to squirm back and forth, though, I decided to try and coax her into the booster seat at the kitchen table. Thinking I had her figured out, I pointed at the booster seat and said, "Sylvie, do you want to come sit down here like a big girl?"
She looked at me pointedly, motioned at the stool where she was already perched, and hollered - "NO! This one for BIG KIDS!"
UPDATE: It seems Melissa has negotiated a temporary compromise. The high chair, sans tray, pulled up close to the center island so that the island is Sylvie's eating surface seems to satisfy both her "big kid" table impulse and our desire for a modicum of safety... We'll see how long this lasts.
