My baby will be 20 months old tomorrow. Closer to two than to one. Hardly a baby anymore.
Part of me is sad about it, because one year olds are the cutest ever, but then part of me is excited, because two year olds are the cutest ever too.
She’s grown a lot lately, jumping from the 10th percentile, where she spent the whole first year of her life, up to the 40th. We missed wearing a whole bunch of shoes, because she went from size three to size five in like five minutes it seems.
She’s learning so much lately. How to get dressed, how to open doors, how to wrap a baby doll in a blanket and give it kisses, how to smile on cue, how to take selfies on the iPhone, and how to find a playlist on Songza. Whenever she’s done a meal, she hands me her bowl, cutlery, placemat, and cup- so careful to always clear her place. She always drinks the milk from her bowl of cereal, usually before she even starts eating the cereal. She’s generous with her smacks and shoves, but also with her hugs and kisses. That girl loves her some kissing.
She’s saying new words every day. Here’s some of her favorite words:
ME!!! (always said with the most enthusiasm possible when there’s something she wants)
teese (teeth- she loooooves brushing her teeth)
baaa (bye. she’s sorta southern with her greetings)
and then of course…
One of her brothers’ favorite games to play is to ask her who she loves more, mommy or daddy. She always shouts “Daddy!!” with the cheekiest look, and everyone laughs at me because she didn’t pick me. It really is pretty funny.
She’s potty trained, yes, but still breastfeeding. I waiver back and forth between wanting to be done with it and thinking who really cares, she can breastfeed as long as she wants. She only usually nurses first thing in the morning, which buys me a few extra minutes in bed. She calls it “nee nees” and she loves it. It’s actually the sweetest thing nursing a full-on toddler. She switches sides on her own, gives me big smiles and kisses, and if I ask her if she’s happy, she always nods so vigorously. To the haters out there, don’t knock it till you tried it. So I’m not sure when she’ll be done breastfeeding. Maybe next month, when she goes for a sleepover to grammy’s for a few nights, maybe not.
I love my little Ivy and her vivacious personality. She’s so full of life and so much fun. She’s wild and brave, soft-hearted and tender. The perfect combination, and I love watching her grow up.
I have to admit, though, I find myself singing that little song, “don’t you ever grow up, ever grow up, just stay this little…” a lot lately.
ps Ivy’s birth story is featured over on the Freshly Picked blog today!