How is it possible that we’re less than two months a way from a one year old?
Isla, you’re moving faster, considering more and pushing yourself farther than ever before. You are one determined, methodical little baby.
It’s fascinating to see you observe and interact with the animals. Select specific toys you favour over so many others. The books – the many, many books you just want to hold and turn and play with for hours. Well, maybe not hours but something more like fifteen minutes which I’m pretty sure is the adult attention span equivalent of hours for a baby your size.
Everything fits better. Soon it won’t fit at all. You’re devouring all of the yogurt and kefir I can give you, along with avocados, oatmeal and other goodies for growing babes.
Your hair. YOUR HAIR. I apologize in advance for the curls that will no doubt torment you for many years (sorry about that) before you come to terms with your wild locks and learn to love them. They just keep getting crazier and curlier and it’s my favorite thing.
Two teeth popped up after giving you many nights of trouble first. It’s going to be a long couple of years while the rest follow suit. We will survive.
You love to mimic me when I say “yeah”. You’ll repeat “yeah, yeah, yeah” as if you’re already a teenager rolling her eyes, smart mouthing me about something that probably doesn’t even matter so much anyway.
You cuddle. You cuddle! But this is rare, since you have a lot of things to accomplish during the day, so there isn’t that much time to make cuddles happen. Pretty soon you’ll be walking. Then you’ll no doubt be on the run. Then we’ll put you to work – there’s lots to do around this farm.
Almost a year!?! How is it even possible!?