Baby C at eighteen months:
Curious. Helpful. Mischievious. Amiable.
Belly Laugh. Buddha Belly. Belly that is perfect for a tickle.
Stomping. Jumping. Running. Crashing. Somersaulting.
Dancing with elbows bent and hands in jivin' fists.
T-man's morning alarm clock, yelling from your crib: "Hi!"
Tender. Tiny dimpled hands that pat my back.
Head with soft hair that rests against my shoulder.
Arms that barely reach around my neck for a squeeze.
"Book?" "Mom?" "Again!"
Snuggling on my lap.
Tears. Tantrums. More tears. "So Sorry."
Melts even big sister's heart.
Peanut-butter sandwiches. Dum Dum lollypops. Apples eaten to the core.
Peanut-butter sandwiches. Dum Dum lollypops. Apples eaten to the core.
Sticky kisses.
So glad you're here.
So glad we didn't stop at four.
My little partner. My little friend.
Joy.
Oh how I do LOVE that age :)
ReplyDeleteThat is the best picture! I was slowly scrolling down and when I came to that smile, those rosy cheeks and bright eyes (that are the spitting image of yours)...instant happy tears sprang to my eyes. I'm SO glad you didn't stop at four!
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