Eighteen months ago today I was exhausted but elated and full of wonder, looking at my new little daughter. Now she's a little girl, a toddler, really no longer a baby.
A few days ago she said her first sentence, "I like seagulls", and tonight in the bath she did a lot of drill impressions and then said "drill!" and beamed at me cheekily. It's a word she learnt this afternoon after pointing to a man with a drill on her jigsaw puzzle. When she heard Adriano open the front door she said clearly "Daddy's home" and gave a little squeal of excitement.
I tried to write down the words she said today. I got as far as : puzzle, balloon, fairy, off, cup, bowl, book, ball, 'Mummy read it', dinosaur, dolly, teddy, bird, cow, pig, elephant, dog, cat, 'I like stories', toys, children, ...and then I gave up as it's a never ending task now.
She can count to 12!
I'm so ridiculously proud of her every move. Can you tell?
The truth is, I'm quite sure if she wasn't doing all these things yet, I would love her every bit as much. I feel so connected to her. She gives the most gorgeous hugs these days, really wrapping herself around me, or cuddling my legs if I'm standing. Every morning when she wakes up (hideously early) I feel like I can't bear to be dragged from sleep, but within a few minutes she has usually won me over with her chatter.
I'm so lucky to have her, and this love in my life.
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