She calls the moon a ball. We go out for a walk in her stroller and she catches glimpses of the half moon in the sky. She points and shouts “BALL!” which comes out really more like “BOH”. And then she keeps pointing and shouting. And I say “moon” and she says “MOH!” and twists in her stroller so she can continue pointing and staring. And the she hears a dog and straightens out, looks everywhere for the hound, and ever so silently says “vuh vuh vuh” which is her version of “woof woof woof”.

If I ask her to hand me her plate she will. If I ask her to bring me the iPad she will. If I ask her to put something in the sink, or give it to dada, or take it upstairs, she will she will she will. I’m not sure how it transpired (though I have a fairly good idea), but when I came home from work the pantry was doused in Cumin. One of those giant bottles almost completely emptied onto the floor. There were tiny handprints and long dragging finger scrapes all around the edges. I handed her the dustpan and she dove right in, doing more damage than good but clearly understanding that she was given a tool to clean up with and did the best her uncoordinated body parts would let her do.

When I ask her to hand me her bowl, she hands me a ball. She does love that word.

She hands me her little toddler bathtub before climbing into the big bath fully clothed. We brush her teeth every evening. With toothpaste.

She loves to be outside. And if there is even the tiniest hint that she can go, she grabs a pair of shoes. Sometimes they are her shoes and she smiles sweetly at you repeating “shss…shss” (very little in the way of vowels) and sits and presents a foot to you for her shoes to be put on. Sometimes, they are your shoes which may or may not be entirely appropriate for the adventure. My rainboots are a favorite of hers since they are quite easy to slip on and she can fit her entire body into one. But today she gave me the heels I had kicked off at the door, like those were totally acceptable for shoveling bark in the backyard.

She is fast. She has always been fast. But now she is fast, and brave, and taller than usual. She can climb higher than she used to. And boy does she love that. Did I tell you about the time I had a dream that she was like Lord of the Game of Thrones/Hunger Games tribe because she climbed the tallest heights? Yeah, still true. She climbs on chairs, stools, desks, beds, couches, end tables, real tables…our house looks like some kinda of weird checkers game because you can never have a chair too close to a surface or she will wreak havok.

She goes up and down stairs without holding on. She goes up and down the brick stairs outside just like an adult. No squatting, no hands, no turning around and sliding down on her tummy. Straight up core strength body correction and balance to lift a foot and place it on a lower step without falling over. I still catch my breath every time.

She likes piggyback rides. She kinda sucks at staying on for horsey rides, but piggyback rides are a win.

OMG she lotions. And combs her own hair. And wipes herself between diaper changes. And remembers we put the sunglasses on the bookshelf before her nap so she can have them after. She sleeps with a blanket. She has a possessed toy that won’t stop singing at the slightest vibration so it sits under the crib. We turn it on to put her to sleep but then it doesn’t go off all night when she shifts. She throws stuffed animals at it to make it start up again. She is smart. I mean, she’s smart for her age. She totally headbutts the cat and the baby gate, so she’s not that smart, but she is smart for her age.

Which is 18 months. Already.


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