Annalyse Joy is 18 months. Eighteen months of darling smiles, feisty independence, spunky intrigues, and ornery pouts. I don't think it's possible to love this little pink thing anymore than I already do, but I'm sure in the next 18 months I'll discover that I can.
A few other things to note about this phase in your tiny life. You are a picky eater, meaning I can't remember the last time you picked up a vegetable and ate it, but if I hide it in fruit or applesauce you don't even notice. You roll meat around your mouth and then promptly spit it out, which means I'm giving you cheese all the time to compensate for the protein you need. You don't like juice, which is a-okay with me. You love popsicles and graham crackers. Bubble baths scare you and you cry and scream to get out. You whine when I plop you on the grass or in the sandbox barefoot, but when I ignore you for a few minutes you finally get over the tickly feeling and go on with playing.
Annalyse Joy, you've got a smile that melts my heart and a will that challenges my heart. In our home of loud and rough boys, you're a precious addition to help even things out. I love you, baby girl, and am so proud to be your mom!