i love the independency of a 20-month old. she can't quite do anything by herself, but she sure as heck is going to try. everything is "self" or "no, mommy" or "no, help," all while pushing my hand out of the way. it takes her five minutes to do what it would have taken me one minute to do. walking up our three flights of stairs is agonizingly slow as she stops and looks at every rock, wrapper, and crack. (meanwhile, my shoulder feels as though it's going to break off from the fifty-pounds of bags i've got slung over my it and my bladder's going to burst) but she must have her independence. she insists on it. outwardly i groan, while inwardly i shout for joy or hold back tears because she's getting so big, but growing up way too fast. and nobody ever told me how moody an almost two-year old girl can be.