Annabelle,
I'll be honest. When I was pregnant with you and we found out you were going to be a girl, I cried a little to myself. So in love with your brother was I that I could only envision another little boy in our lives. However, the Lord saw fit to hand us a little pink fluffy love and I fell for you hook, line, and sinker. No sooner had I heard your first cry and held you in the hospital than my mind was made up. And every month of your life we have giggled to ourselves at the indulgent joy it has been to observe your personality, your femininity, and your heart as you begin to express yourself.
Here we are after 18 months of you and I find all I can say is that I am smitten still. Hopelessly and wonderfully smitten. You are my sweet treat and I can't believe I never knew what fun little girls could be. Indeed, you bring the little girl in me to life. I coo over you in your sweetie pie clothes. I adore how you push your shopping buggy with one arm and hold your other high in the air to keep your purse on. I awwwww when you hold and pat your baby doll. I feel such satisfaction when you play with your princess figurines and your tea set and kitchen. In that same breath though, I love how you go after Noah's trucks, trains, balls, and dinosaurs. I sigh at how you follow your brother into play or mischief and I am glad you have him to share your days. I always wanted a big brother/hero type when I was a girl, so it is only fitting that you should have it so.
I giggle at your prissiness. I relish how you walk tippie toe when you aren't quite sure where you want to go next. I memorize the shape of your extended finger and how you don't ball your hand up underneath it, how you instead point the rest of your skinny fingers down. I melt over your uncoordinated scamper. And I swell with pride at how smart you are, how boldly you go after what you want. I enjoy brushing your wispy hair and feeling your baby soft skin. I am eager to know what your reaction to this or that next thing will be. I wish I could be a fly on the wall to see what you are like with other adults and babies when I am not around. I like to just peek at you while you sleep and study how you play by yourself.
You are all of 18 months, in your mind I am sure you think you are more, but in size you are so adorably tiny. Yesterday, in fact, you were wearing capris sized at 3-6 months and a shirt sized 12 months (as is the rest of your spring wardrobe). At your well-baby visit last week, we were not surprised to discover you had lost weight over the last 6 weeks. You log in now at 20 lbs. 2 oz., which is only in the 3rd percentile for your age. You did grow 2 inches over the last few months, though, reaching 32 inches, in the 60th percentile. Other notes from your doctor's visit have to do with Dr. Holzen making sure your Daddy plans to get you some sunglasses, lots of sunscreen, and a sun hat. Your skin is so pale, your eyes so blue.
This weekend we were out buying you new shoes. You now wear size 4 1/2. And without fail, you always remove your shoes and socks in the car, no matter how sternly I warn you to stop or how many hand smacks you get. Thankfully, you carefully hold on to them and are sure to hand us each article of footwear before we get you out of your seat. You like hats and insist on wearing your pink "My First Fishing Hat" baseball cap when we go outside. It's from Bass Pro just like Noah's ball cap.
In keeping with Dr's order, we had fun putting a brand new floppy baby blue hat on your head two days ago and watching you glow with pride and ownership as you wore it the rest of the day. You got some pink sunglasses in your Easter basket, but they won't stay on your flat little nose unless we put them on you upside down, so it is back to the shopping cart for us on that one.
Other particulars that build your 18 month snapshot: Your smile is still hard to come by. In most pictures you only grin, if that. In public you still go all stoic and sober and people must think you are a poor mistreated thing at home to be so expressionless and still in the company of anyone new.
Your hair has finally begun to gain some length and a little bit of thickness. Although messy and hard to smooth at times, it is now about 1-2 inches past your hairline and I can't wait to try pig tails on you. One of my favorite things you let me do is play with or stroke your hair, so I have high hopes you will sit still long enough for me to fix it just right in the coming years. Your legs are so skinny, your knees seem knobby.
Aside from the pink hemangioma on your left hip from birth, we've discovered a few tiny moles on you - one on your lower left jaw, one on the inside of your left knee and the other on the outside of your left ankle. Your belly button is half in, half out and you work hard to pull up your shirt, point your finger in it and say, "bee bee". You also jut your lower jaw out quite often. I think you might have your daddy's under bite.
You are still easily wearing size 3 diapers these days and just this week you had another first. Your first hand down the poopy diaper! Lucky me. Thankfully, you do not like messes of any kind on your hands so I don't expect that to become a habit. Just last week you melted down about M & M dye on your hands. Other times, panic ensues when you fall and there is dirt or sand on any part of you. It's not uncommon for you to drop everything to sit in the floor to inspect the bottom of your foot if you feel so much as a crumb sticking to it. Another first you had just this past weekend was wearing your first pair of leggings. Being new to this girly-girl world of clothes, I was hesitant to dive into that sort of apparel for you, but that is a hurdle that was fun to jump. You were altogether precious in them and I wonder that my dad never saw fit to let me wear them as a little girl.
Your sleeping rhythm goes like so: You wake between 6 and 6:30, nap around 10:30/11:00 for about 2 hours, and then go to bed by 7:00. In the morning, we give you your sippy cup of PediaSure and turn on
Blue's Clues until Noah gets up, whereby you do or don't watch
Curious George with him. I always plop you on the couch while I doze first thing in the morning. Daddy says he sits you on his lap in the crook of his arm in his chair. In either locale, you sit in that spot til you have guzzled that cup. Usually takes only a few minutes. Then you head straight for your books.
You are not much for a good tantrum, but I think you think you throw some doozies. The best you ever manage is to plop on your bootie in the floor, arch your back out and slowly roll yourself backwards til you are lying down and then twist and fuss, but never for more than 10 seconds, if that. You must think you are so fierce, but your daddy and I just melt at how adorable your efforts are. You run through this little snit mostly when we tell you "No." You still obey, but you lodge your complaint that way. You have another way to object ... which is to take whatever is in your hand, yank it back behind your head, and then look us in the eye, threatening to throw it down. We are quick to tell you "No"; I usually bellow "You better NOT!" And for some reason lately, you test us every time - not exactly throwing it down, but dropping it sharply instead. This usually results in a spank. And that usually results in your falling apart in tears, hurrying back into our arms. And we grin to ourselves over this whole role-play as well. Just not when you are looking.
When you play outside, you pull out every last toy in the garage. When you wake after sleeping, you stand and bounce in your bed. When Noah builds a tower, you always knock it down. When you sit in your chair at the table lately, you want your bib even though you don't need it. When I get you ready for bed, you insist on kissing Daddy and Noah first. When I brush your teeth, you try to grab the toothbrush and then giggle when I tell you "I'm not done yet." You still sleep in a sleepsack though this will end by summertime. We don't have to put up a gate at the bottom of the stairs anymore; you just know not to go up them by now. You like to strum the vent on the air return in the hallway and today you got your fingers stuck in it. You also just learned how to blow bubbles.
You hurry to hug your Daddy when he gets home. You never dance or bop to music like Noah did. You know how to keep your snacks in the kitchen now. And you like when I sing you the ABC's. You love to be outside. Your favorite book is
Raindrop Plop!, especially the back page that you scribbled on. You are terrified of dogs. And now you take a nap at school on a mat instead of being put in a crib. You also understand and participate in time outs. The funny thing is how you excitedly hurry to the time-out spot when told to go. I think, I THINK, you like feeling like a big girl going there now that you have seen Noah go there so many times.
My favorite moments with you are when you go limp in my arms, laying your head on my shoulder, sort of tucked behind my head. Or when you try to wrap your arms around me, too, except they don't even reach around my shoulders. When you receive these cuddly moments with me I melt like butter. Why? Why does it feel so good to hold you like that? Just to hold you, quiet and still? Feels like heaven. Like peace. Pink and fluffy peace.
I love you, baby doll. I can hardly remember what life was like before you added your touch to our lives. It's gonna be a wonderful summer. You'll get sweaty, stinky, and sticky keeping up with Noah, but somehow you'll still be my soft sweetie all the while. Loving loving on you.
Love, Mama
