Strike A Pose

He sprinted ahead as he yelled back to us, “Mommy, take my picture up there with that cool dude!”

It was a request I couldn't deny. Daddy lifted him up on the rock and he posed. Just like this.

I would pay money to know what goes on his little mind. His vast, creative, unique, think-outside-the-box brain. Someday, I have no doubt, it will earn him his own statue just like this. Until then, he can practice the pose here anytime he wants. I will always take pictures.

First Ponytail

Dear Mimi,

When you were born your hair was thin, wispy, and dark. It curled down the back of your neck just slightly-it was longer than your brother’s was at birth and lighter. A little less full of curls. It was soft and smelled of newborn deliciousness.

I know because I studied it for hours those first few days. I put on hats to see the little curl stick out the back and tried out your going home headband SEVERAL times before we actually went home.

In the first few months, I made you take pictures with ridiculously large headbands and in the last few months, I’ve put a “pretty” in your hair for nearly every outing.

I’ve studied your curls at length and dreamt of the day I could comb your hair, braid it for a special event and see your pig tails bounce while you play.

So, when this happened:

I cried. Big fat, happy tears.  Your first thin, curly, and beautiful pony tail.

You are getting too old, too fast my love.

Mommy

Doggie! Duck! Horsie!

We took Mila to the zoo for the first time (that didn’t involve a carrier and looking at my chest the entire time) last weekend.

 

To say she loved it is an understatement. This girl has an undying love for all things animal. Even if she thinks they are ALL doggies, kitties, horsies, or ducks.

 

In this particular picture she’s looking at a seal and screaming “DUCKY!”  Which, I guess…they both swim in water??

 

 

 

Here she is riding a “ BIG HORSIE!” Clearly.

 

 

We saw gorillas, aka “DOGGIES!”  I’m not sure my brain can explain the connection on this one.

 

And, finally, watching a lion play while yelling “KITTY! BALL!” Which, actually, is kinda right. Fist bump, Mimi. Ya got one.

 

 

 

Clearly we need to re-read the animal bookies.

 

  

Mini-Him

One month ago, I took this picture of Tyson and Daddy:

I'm not entirely sure why their pants are pulled up to their chest, but the point is they match-down to the smirks on their faces.

A few weeks ago I posted this on Facebook:

 Last weekend I took this picture:

 Let them both dress themselves that day. Apparently, they can match each other, just not themselves.

Today, I snapped this in the middle of our Father's Day celebrating:

His butt chin at birth gave away that he would always look exactly like his Daddy, but I had no idea just how much he would sound and act like him too. 

Happy Father's Day to the Best Daddy I know.

We love you,

Mommy, Mimi and your Mini-me.

15 Months-Trouble!

Dear Mimi,

Happy fifteen month birthday, baby! I'm a few weeks late writing, but I have a valid excuse-YOU. Sometime during the last three months you've morphed from my unsteady waddling little baby into a full-blown running toddler. To say you keep me on my toes is a complete understatement. You are BUSY. You move at 100 miles an hour. You have no fear. You don't stop. Heck, you don't even pause. You are cute and smart and determined (which is a fancy way of saying you can throw one heck of a fit). And you are A LOT OF WORK, but you are also so, so much fun.

A few of your favorite things at 15 months?

-Me! Yay! Re-read that at 15 years when you think I'm not fair, crazy and so stupid. That's right, at 15 months, I was the greatest thing to ever walk this planet. Take that 15 year old Mila. Currently you prefer I feed you, put you to bed, bathe you, dress you, hold you, change your diaper et al. You wake up yelling, "MAMA!" and fall asleep blowing me kisses. I'm not going to say I don't love it. 15 year old Mila-you could take some hints from this behavior.

-Your brother! Again, re-read that at 15 when you think he smells and is so annoying. You want to do EVERYTHING he does. You attempt to go down the stairs like him. You attempt to sing along to songs with him. You attempt to play with everything he does. You even attempt to ride a scooter like him. (Please see above regarding having no fear)

-Eating. You can pack it in. There is little you don't like at this point. Meat is actually your favorite food followed quickly there after by berries. You scream, "BITE!" or "SNACK!" 95% of the time I'm cooking dinner (which is completely enjoyable, thank you for asking). You are desperately trying to figure out how to use a fork and demand one at every meal, yet, you still require a bottle at bedtime-a habit we're trying desperately to break.

-Cuddling. I'm still not sure how I got so lucky this time around. You LOVE to cuddle. After nap time, you are content to cuddle with me for an hour easily if I will let you. Most of the time I do. This is another reason for the lack of blogging lately. Also, the reason for the un-mopped floors.

-Talking. You like to hear your own voice-a trait both you and your brother have picked up from your Daddy. You babble all day long but can spit out 50 plus understandable words to us too. My favorite words include: "deese" for please, "tank du" for thank you, "Doggie!" for any animal and "Big Doggie!" for any animal bigger than Lola.

-Hoarding. Or being a bag lady. Or, ya know, just efficiently packing any sort of container. This one perplexes me. Any container you can find to fill is typically stuffed to the brim by the end of the day with odds and ends and even odder ends?! Last week we found one of Daddy's shoes, a baby, a sippy cup top, a block, a few goldfish, two remotes, a sock (not sure of the owner), half of a banana, and a dog treat in your doll stroller.

Despite the fact that your slowly gaining a new nickname (Trouble), I adore you at 15 months. You're a bundle of sass and sweet rolled into one ridiculously cute little girl and everyday I find myself thinking of how lucky I am to be your Mommy. You make this so much fun.

I love you, little girl.

Love,

Mommy