marlo update | sixteen months

my sweet baby girl, you are sixteen months old. sixteen months going on sixteen years, with so many opinions about so many things and a personality that is all fire and spice and occasionally nice. you are a big girl, too, 75th and 90th percentile for weight and height respectively.

you are like me in that you laugh at your own jokes, you wear every emotion blatantly on your face, you immediately notice when something is new or out of its' particular place, you haven't tried a food that you don't seem to love, and you're undeniably stubborn. you're also very flirtatious and have a must-figure-it-out-on-your-own-time mentality. i couldn't deny our similarities even if i wanted to. but the truth is that you are your father's child. the two of you are cut from the same cloth and your laughs are the biggest reminder; they're both so genuine and hearty and lovely to hear.

you are at that stage where you want to walk beside the stroller so you can stop and observe everything along our way, particularly the homeless people squatting on the sidewalks. you stand there and stare wide-eyed at them as i watch the wheels turning in your little yet ever-expanding mind. i realize that one day, and one day far too soon, i'm going to have to explain things to you that even i don't understand. i know that certain answers will not sit well with your soul and will bother you greatly, just as those things bother me. i'm very proud of you for this. if i teach you anything, i hope that it's empathy and kindness.

you are compassionate and you understand when someone is hurting. when i had surgery a couple of weeks ago and told you that "mama is hurt and you must be gentle," you signed "baby" as you remembered me telling you to be gentle with our friends' newborn. and throughout my recovery, when i would remind you to be gentle as you were climbing all over me, you would lift up my shirt to observe my scars and you'd sign "baby." (no, no baby. but i get what you're saying.) you've even kissed those scars unprompted. it was by far the sweetest moment of parenthood, thus far, and i have no qualms admitting that i shed a few tears when it happened.

and while you may be fiercely independent, you also constantly want to be wherever we are; those baby gates, be damned. and as frustrating as that can be at times- i don't know, like, when i'm trying to pee- i love that you always want to be as close to us as possible. i mean, always being near you isn't the worst thing in the world.

we must keep pants or bottoms on you at all times because your newest discovery are the tabs on your diaper. you've become an expert streaker around these parts. you also find it hysterical as i try to wrestle it back onto you. me, not so much.

your favorite things are your happy meal race car that aunt mammi gave you, alternating big exaggerated kisses between your dad and me, and winking. your kisses are one-of-a-kind but your winks need some work. your winks actually consist of you blinking, rapid-fire style, both of your eyes repeatedly underneath shaggy hair. but it's damn cute. and it gets the job done; i have yet to meet one person who doesn't blush when you do it, your father and me included.

you are pretty wonderful, my dear. you are challenging and determined to be your own person. i didn't think that was possible at sixteen months old. but you teach me something new every single day.

and to think that it's only going to get better from here is a little overwhelming.

you are my sunshine, little one.

xoxo,
mama