Christmas ornaments keep walking off the bottom half of the tree.
I find sippy cups full of milk inside the bathroom cabinet or nestled among the tupperware.
She says waowwww when she sees Christmas lights.
Just when I think she’s nodded off to sleep, she’ll lift her head from my chest and put her finger up my nose.
And she’ll break into the downward-facing dog pose at any given moment.
Because she’s Sophie. And she’s awesome.
I keep thinking this is my favorite age. But then it just keeps getting better and better.
Whatever her sissy does, she wants to do too.
Put on shoes, play with Lalaloopsies, drink from a big-girl cup, you name it.
So last week I gave in and let her have snack at Lily’s seat.
And she ate those puffs in that big chair like a boss.
A baby of many faces. And sounds. Who knows where to point when I ask, “Where’s your tushie?”
Who loves to whisper hiiiiiiiiii when we’re rocking in the dark at bedtime.
Who talks up a storm, in a language all her own.
Who spits out green beans. And slings her cup on the floor with an innocent “uh-oh.”
Who bobs her head when music plays in the car (and likes to sing along).
Who loves shoes. Putting them on. Taking them off. Saying “shoooooessss.”
Who comes running in for a hug then turns sideways at the very last second to bury her head in my chest.
18 months old today.
This baby I love so much it hurts.
When Sophie was a few days old, one of our neighbors brought over the sweetest little pink hydrangea. A single cluster of teeny blooms standing a few inches tall. Marc planted it in a shady bed in our front yard. It’s sort of tucked out of the way, and I forget to peek over there.
So it was such a lovely surprise to discover yesterday while Lily and I were playing in the leaves that Sophie’s hydrangea is now a couple of feet tall, with three purply-blue clusters. And the one at the very top is still going strong, even this late in the season.
If we ever move, I’m totally digging it up and taking it with us.
The latest from our friend Cary, who has such a knack for capturing the girls in their element:
Tags: 17 month old baby, baby, baby milestones, baby's first words
a little bossy
a lot squeezable
oh so funny
hider of things
huggy and open-mouth-kissy
straight up awesome
Last week before the plague hit our little family, Lily decided that she and Sophie were going to dress up as superheroes. Allow me to introduce American Girl. I’ll give you a moment to take in the ensemble:
And check out “Fanciest,” as named by her big sister, battling with her lime-green lei in the background, tutu down to her toes.
Most of our dress-up clothes came from Laura a couple of Christmases ago. She put together a really neat collection of things — including the pink tutu, the “airplane flyer” shirt as Lily calls it, and Sophie’s NYC tee — from one of the thrift shops in town. It’s one of the most clever gifts Lily has ever received, and it continues to fuel her imagination.
And I couldn’t resist throwing in this photo of Sophie in one of her favorite places ever. On sissy’s bed, clutching sissy’s lovey, with another one of sissy’s toys in her other hand. To say that she adores Lily is an understatement.
And when Lily actually allows Sophie into her room, magic happens.
Tags: 16 month old baby, baby, baby milestones
Look at this face. Sophie’s special scrunch. I’ve been trying to capture it on camera all summer, and finally, here it is in all its glory.
Behold the milk dribble:
This baby makes us laugh every day.
She pushes the kitchen chairs across the room, cackling with every step.
She picks up a book, waddles over to me, turns around and backs into my lap with a plop. As in, read Mommy. Now.
When I blow my nose, she pretends to do the same. And whenever she nabs a tissue (or a five-foot-long stretch of toilet paper) she pretends to blow her nose.
She loves to show people her belly button. And she gives open-mouth kisses if you ask for one.
Her “run” is a quicker waddle with one arm flapping, like she’s pushing the air out of the way.
When Lily builds a block tower, Sophie knocks it over like it’s her job.
Wherever Lily is, Sophie wants to be. Which has become a little problematic for big sister, who likes her stuff JUST SO and has taken to shutting her bedroom door in Sophie’s face. But she doesn’t last long without little sis nearby. Two peas in a pod.
In the bath, Sophie likes to pour water on herself. And tip her head way down to try to drink from the tub. When I say “no,” she shakes her head with me.
When she hears the dishwasher or fridge door open, she comes running.
She just discovered stickers and loves to press them onto her legs. And onto mommy’s boobies.
If you chase her, she laughs maniacally, then stops running and braces herself to be tickled.
Sometimes she stands with both arms crossed at the wrist behind her back, lost in thought. Like a little old soul.
Armpit rolls, thigh rolls, neck rolls. I want to eat them all.
Pure sunshine, this baby.
We can’t get enough.