Baby takes only one nap. Baby goes to daycare and plays with her friends. Baby eats real food and drinks real milk and she brings me the dimes she finds on the floor now instead of putting them in her mouth.
When I say, “Baby go get Santa,” she leaves the room to come racing back seconds later with a smile stretching from eyes to chin and cheek to cheek with the big stuffed Santa that lives wherever she left him last.
When she climbs into the rocking chair all by herself and puts her arms up, one on each side I say “Baby read a book,” and she picks it up and reads it. Usually opened straight to page 6 and usually upside down but I swear she reads it.
Baby likes lemon peppered fish and asparagus. She loves banana and blueberry ice cream.
Baby plays on the computer. Baby plays pranks and hides her plastic cookies in my shoes. Once I found a banana in my boot after I had pulled it on. A real banana.
She’s definitely cute but she’s starting to get pretty. She’s always been a treat but she’s starting to get fun. I’ve always loved her and now she’s starting to love me.
Baby’s not really a baby anymore.