|In our backyard on Sunday.|
Being the parent of an 18-month-old -- which I officially am today -- is bittersweet, but certainly more sweet than bitter. Yes, there's the where-did-my-baby-go sadness, but each day is exciting and new as I see Edith exploring new things and learning new skills. It truly seems like she is a little different every day.
She can walk, scoop with a spoon and follow simple directions. She can blow kisses and even plant one on your cheek if you are lucky. She can climb a ladder to go down the slide -- but she doesn't care to slip down that slide without a bit of help.
She has favorites -- food (graham crackers), books ("I Love You, Good Night"), toys (magnetic letters, spread out on the floor), games (peekaboo) and songs (Itsy Bitsy Spider). And she has a mind of her own.
She can say only a few words, but she understands many, many more. You can practically see the gears turning when we speak to her -- and the frustration when she can't explain what she wants.
I'm glad to have such a fun, happy, healthy girl -- especially when, almost every day, she's eager to sit on my lap and read book after book after book. That might be when I feel luckiest of all.