November 3

Up to something in her daddy's hat...

My little girl is 15 months old today.  It’s both exciting and a little sad to quite literally watch time pass before our eyes as she grows.  I’ve now celebrated my birthday with her twice, as has my husband.  We went trick-or-treating for the second time earlier this week.   Each day, she gets a little faster, a little smarter, a little more vocal.  We never know what she is going to repeat, so the filters are firmly in place until she’s sound asleep.   I’m amazed at how funny and clever she can be, even at her age.  I’m even more amazed to see a reflection of myself in her funny faces and funky attitude.

I took her for a checkup and a flu shot today.  She weighed just a tad less than 25 pounds, though I could swear she’s closer to 40.  At least that’s how it feels once she’s been on my hip for two or three minutes.  They also measured her height.  She was 31.5 inches, but when the nurse wrote it on my form to take home, it said “2 feet, 7.5 inches.”  I almost cried.  It’s the first time they’ve ever written down her height in FEET instead of inches.  I guess now that she’s walking, that’s appropriate.  It is still a big reminder that my baby is a now a toddler. 

She’s in the 75^th percentile for weight and height, and the doctor said she’s healthy and developing just as she should.  He seemed a bit impressed that she sleeps as long and heavily as she does at night (12-13 hours, sometimes a little more) so I assured him I’m not slipping her a Mickey with her dinner.   My little girl just plays hard all day—and I mean ALL day.  She goes and goes and goes nonstop, so she needs a long night of sound sleep, I guess.  (I am thankful for this since it means I’ve been getting to sleep until NINE!)

Because of Facebook, I frequently hear stories about babies and children who are sick or hurting.  Rarely a week goes by that I don’t have friends or acquaintances asking for prayer for a baby born too early, a toddler who has been in a terrible accident, or a child diagnosed with cancer.  And then there’s the less severe illnesses—the flu, strep, a broken bone.   Meanwhile, my Peanut has never been sick outside of a stuffed up nose or slight fever while teething.  She’s had bumps and bruises and even a busted lip once, but her only trips to the doctor have been for checkups and vaccinations.  I am so thankful today that my little girl has been healthy these past fifteen months.  I am also thankful that she’s growing and developing physically, mentally and emotionally.  So often we take for granted when our children take their first steps or say new words or even behave during a meal.  These are things we consider “normal,” things we expect them to do.  But for so many children, these are milestones that are cause for celebration.  A first step may very well be a miracle.  “Mama” may be the result of hours and hours of speech therapy.   We don’t always know what burdens the parents we encounter are carrying. 

I am so thankful for my Amelia, my rambunctious, independent, fierce little Peanut.  I somehow love you more each day.