I’ve been a bad blogger and I think a decade into the 21st century that somehow also means a bad mommy. In any case, Amelia is 18 months old . . . and still alive! Since there was indeed a day when we didn’t know if we’d make it, I still remark at the miracle that is keeping another human alive.
The stats:
She is a tall girl, 33 inches and in the 90th percentile for height. I’m not much into the comparison chart thing, but 90th is significantly taller than most her age. She is, on the flip side, tiny, at only 24 lbs and in the 50th percentile for weight. Please don’t ask me how her father and I created a long, thin baby. Only some kind of genetic genius could tell you, I’m sure. That chub-rolled baby of last year has disappeared either way.
She is true to her genetics as a talker though. She talks as well as most two year-olds and has an expansive vocabulary that takes me off guard each day. She learns much faster than I teach apparently and I find myself having conversations with her that surprise me daily. The world is a much easier place to navigate with a talking baby. Not to mention that she tends to crack me up too. She’s reserved and shy, but thoughtful and sweet. She loves to read and sing and “help.” She’s the best friend a mom could ask for.
She’s also very sophisticated at the dinner table . . .
Even if a little sarcastic, no?
She truly is just getting more and more fun. Babies are sweet and chubby and drooly, but I’ll take my little girl any day. We are having the best time together . . . it seems that time is just slipping away as a result too. I guess that’s how cliches are born. . .
FALL RECAP:
Apple Hill
Thanksgiving
Hmmm. Nobody sees me with Mama’s phone
HELLO? One of her funniest bits is picking up the phone and saying, “Allo? Goooood. . . hahahahah” I have no idea where she gets that.
What? I don’t have a phone
Busted.
Another party?
I still can’t believe she’s a year and a half! Practically grown.
The adventure continues.
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