You are still my little baby girl, but you are looking less ‘baby’ by the day, and I’m struggling to give up calling you that (hoping you shed ownership of that word before your younger sibling shows up and usurps it). In any case, you act more like a little grown up every day. You mimic everything we do, from scrubbing counters to teeth brushing, talking on the phone, stretching, and cooking. The ‘sippy’ lids on your cups are an insult, as is my desire to hold your hand when we walk on ice or through busy parking lots. You are entering the ‘do it by yourself’ stage, for sure.
You’ve picked up a few new words, but mostly your vocabulary is growing in terms of animal noises. We borrowed a copy of Animal Hullabaloo from the library, and I’m sure we’ll need to buy them a new one, because you are loving it to a not-so-slow death. By the way, to fully appreciate that last photo, one needs to know that you are roaring as you point to the lion. In any case, this has led to some awfully cute moments, like in the morning when you greet me with monkey noises from your crib, or the quiet “meow’s” you give when you see a cat, or the high pitched “who who whoooo” you whispered when we passed the display of carved owls at the greenhouse the other day. I’m impressed that you’re able to generalize the animal illustrations enough to identify the same animals in other books or in real life form. Pretty cool.
We’ve been pretty cooped up with all this bitter, bitter cold weather, but tot time at the community center has been our saving grace. It’s only three blocks away, so even on the coldest days, we can bundle up and sprint.
I always hope you will take advantage of the situation and run all your crazies out, but your favorite part of tot time is the bleachers, where snacks are relegated. You are such a scavenger; the snacks I pack are never as good as what the other kids have (or the water, for that matter), and you have such a convincing way of standing right next to your peers, smiling expectantly, you can always get someone to share. Even if no one else is having a snack, you like to just sit on the bleachers and wait. This means I do a lot of pied piper style luring you back into the gym.
My little munchkin. You’re such a beautiful mix of wild and gentle, stubborn and sweet, assertive and curious. I’m sure most of that is just you being who you innately are, but I find myself fiercely proud, anyways.