My Baby–You Ain’t a Baby No Mo

 

My little girl, you are 18 months old today. 

I’m having trouble letting that number sink in.

You weigh 25 pounds.  Just yesterday you were 7 lbs. 15 oz.

You are 33 inches long. You were 20.

Your vocabulary is exploding every day. 

Some of your favorite words?

Mommy (I just had to put myself first didn’t I?)

Baby

Daddy

Adie

Bye Bye

Milk

Snow

BaPa

Apple

Ball

Gock (Sock)

All done

You refuse to crawl up the stairs anymore.  You put both hands against the wall and pull yourself up each one.  I walk behind you so closely, but don’t touch you.  Letting your wings spread little Butterfly.

I know this is so a Mom thing, but the smell of you is intoxicating. 

It will just catch me throughout the day.  You’ll come close or I’ll be doing your laundry, or whatever it may be, and I breathe you in.  It is this sweetness.  Truly.  It’s like you’re made of pure sugar.

Your disposition is the best.

You have been the easiest child these past 18 months. 

We lay you down to sleep – you sleep.

You laugh easily.

You smile freely.

Your brothers push you around – you don’t push back. (Although that is beginning to change Ms. Sass!)

You are loved.

Loved.

Loved.

Loved.

Your Daddy and I pray for guidance each day as we raise you.

Even in these days when you’re thrilled with a cup of apple juice, a bowl of pudding, or a hug from your dollie.

Because we know the days won’t always stay this simple.

Your problems won’t always be so easy to fix.

You may not always be quite so laid back…

A snow day calls for bandannas and pig tales

I love you Adelyn Verree.  My daughter.

What a huge blessing and responsibility your Father and I have been given.