She loves the kitty and her brothers. Her favorite foods are chicken, cinnamon graham crackers with peanut butter, sweet potato puffs, chocolate (duh), stir-fried green beans (no other preparation is acceptable) and carrots. Her least favorite thing ever is bedtime, which she lets me know each and every night. Her favorite game is peek-a-boo, although stealing the Wii remote from Mr. Man is a close second. She says four words: mama, dada, kitty and hey. We're working on her brothers' names. She has no interest in walking alone yet; cruising and crawling are just fine.
I've made it pretty clear that this a bittersweet time for me. My baby is one. I don't particularly care that I'll never have another one-year-old, but I've always hated my kids getting older. Of course, maybe once Baby Girl gets older she'll start sleeping through the night in her own bed, so that could be a plus.
I haven't taken her one-year picture on the couch yet. It's coming. I'm going to have to think of a different outfit for year two; she's outgrown all the pink onesies.
I'm not ready for her party Saturday, both literally and figuratively. I'll probably get the literal part down first. I hope so, anyway. She, on the other hand, is always ready for cake.
Happy birthday, Baby Girl; I love you with all my heart.