I'm not sure how long I'll continue to write these little monthly updates. I suppose 18 months seems like a good age to stop, so I'll keep going until then.
|("Mama, why do you accuse me of eating all the Greek yogurt?")|
|("Not like I have evidence of your yogurt on my face or anything.")|
This has been quite a week. On Monday, I realized I'd scheduled your eye appointment later this week. I thought it was Tuesday. I moved your shot for Tuesday back to the very last appointment, to give us time to get your eyes checked. Then I called the eye doctor to learn that your eye appointment is today. Whoops.
You were tough for your shot, but you've learned that sitting in a diaper on white paper at the doctor's office leads to getting pricked. You tried to escape as soon as the nurse donned her gloves, but you stopped crying within a few minutes. I wish I was tough like you.
Ellie, you continue to entertain us. Your comedic timing is developing. This week, Daddy had the crazy idea to hold you while he ate. As soon as he looked up, you grabbed a handful of his curry and shoved it in your face. You laughed. We laughed at you, which I'm sure is just encouraging such behavior. The same night, Daddy was handing you to the sitter and you spit up right in his face with a big smile.
We need to stop laughing at your troublesome ways in front of you.
You are still tiny, weighing in at just sixteen pounds and sleeping in size 3-6 jammies. We got a bunch of size 6-9 pairs, thinking you'd surely outgrow the old jammies soon. However, last night you fit comfortably in your Christmas fuzzy jammies, so I guess we need to feed you milkshakes or Clif bars or something to help you grow a little. Maybe the Easter Bunny will bring you some nice fattening candy.
The nurse who weighed you asked if you've been more active lately, and the answer was a huge "Yes!" Last night, you sat on the floor between the edge of Mommy and Daddy's bed and the nightstand. You pulled up on the bed, cruised one step to the nightstand, and fell dramatically on your bottom. You repeated your exercise at least six or seven times before you were exhausted.
You still don't like to voluntarily release anything, but you are able to remove objects from boxes. Sometimes your cognitive abilities outstrip your fine motor skills, and you shake and slam boxes to remove your desired object - usually a graham cracker or Cheerio.
You are babbling more. Sometimes, I look right in your eyes and ask, "Ellie, can you say 'Mama?'" You stare right back with a look of total concentration and respond, "Dada."
We love you, our tiny little munchkin!