I'm holding tight to this age of yours, you just seem too perfect. You light up whenever your daddy walks in the room and flirt with everyone at church who has a smile or a pinch for your chubby legs. Sometimes you look at me and I swear your little blues eyes are piercing right down deep to my soul. We have a good rhythm together you and I. You're like my little best friend. Your laugh is now constantly filling this teeny apartment of ours- all I have to do is nibble at your belly and you are in hysterics. You are just about sitting up, lasting anywhere from 3-60 seconds before you topple over. You think it's pretty cool to be a big girl like that. You've perfected the open mouthed baby kiss. It looks alarmingly similar to an "I want to eat your face" sort of gesture, but you look at me and close your eyes and I just know deep down in my mommy heart of hearts that you're giving me a kiss. You talk, OH do you talk. Your preferred mode of communication is somewhere between and laugh and a scream. It's very loud but extremely cute //maybe not to the neighbors though.
I only wish I had a pause button. It seems to me that you simply could not get any sweeter. Your irrational momma here just wants to keep you like this forever. I would be happy to drink in your sweet baby breath and burrow into those sour cream neck rolls for eternity. I keep telling myself it'll just keep getting better, but I just can't shake the feeling that I don't want this stage to end. I love you little jelly bean.
-your sentimental momma