What I Love About You

Before I forget, I must make a note of what a little wonder you are, at almost 16 months old.


When Grandma was visiting several weeks ago she told me that she didn't understand what had made me choose this particular 'unappealing' photo of you, with green gunk on your face, to head a blog post. I had to explain to her that for several months you have made this very strange squinty eyed face at me and your father, and we had no idea where you had learned such an expression. It wasn't until recently that I realized you were copying a face that you have seen from me, late at night when I pick you up for a night nursing (if it's not too dark?), and definitely in the early morning when Dad brings you in for boobie and a cuddle. You see, I have the most horrible vision. I normally wear contact lenses and am truly handicapped without them or my glasses. I squint my eyes to make out the fuzzy outline of your body and to slowly let in the bright morning light.

You have become an incredibly affectionate and loving little girl. Your Father and I cannot express enough how much your open arm requests for 'hucks' (hugs) melt our hearts. When we lift you into our arms to squeeze you tight, you wrap your little arms around us, rest your head on our shoulders and administer a gentle pat to our backs. This is pure heaven. You also have been known to stop mid cuddle, look up at me with your little chin tilted to the ceiling and slightly pursed lips, and wait for a kiss. 'Kiss' is now a new word in your ever-expanding vocabulary, and a definite favorite of mine.

You still have a passion for music, and have joined me in several ridiculous dances while watching American Idol. Your rhythmic moves are punctuated with a shoulder shrug and lots of spinning in circles until you fall dizzily onto your bum.

I love listening to you and your Father read your favorite picture books. The two of you have developed a game of speed reading, where you shout out the image on each page as fast as you can, and Daddy retorts with words of congrats, encouragement, and very few corrections.

Apparently, you have already started to turn into your Mother whether you realize/want it or not. Your favorite toy is one of our cell phones. Although this requires constant monitoring from us, as you've been known to accidentally dial an actual number, and we have to make sure that we know exactly where you will finally leave our mobile phone (*It took us a night to find the remote control in the corner of our kitchen behind the trash can), I get a kick out of your playtime. I'm not a phone person, and must have some nervous anxiety when I get on the phone that makes it impossible for me to stay still. I literally pace the length of our apartment whenever I am talking on my cell, and you do the exact same thing! Back and forth you go, walking the length of our living room, talking baby gibberish into the phone.

These days you are full of words, many nonsensical. You communicate with emphatic oohs, aahs, wows and sharp squeals of glee. It seems that there is much in this great big new world that can excite you. As you grow and societal pressures make you slowly learn to suppress your vocal joy, and stifle your honest enthusiasm, I will remember this period of awe and naivete with much longing. You remind me on a daily basis to pay attention to the forgotten beauty and wonders of our surroundings. My Stella, it is you who brings me youth and a deeper love for life. Your presence is my blessing.