This girl who squeals in delight and who laughs loud and heartily, guffaws really, and flashes the most delicious gap between her two front teeth when she does.
This girl who yells, always. A loud yell for yes and a loud yell for no. Yell just means, "I feel strongly about this!" which she feels about just about everything.
This girl who stands and, instead of taking one tentative, gentle test step, throws herself forward taking three or four wild, ungrounded steps before slamming to the ground again and again. Scream, cry, laugh, up again, always moving forward, towards the action.
This girl who purrs when I pet her face with feathery fingers. Who closes her eyes and smiles and nestles close.
This girl who has no patience for teething. Who is so physical and forceful and so grits and grinds her teeth through a runny nose. Grunts and squirms and puts so much static energy into fighting the discomfort. Can only rest and relax on mommy's weary chest. And so we sleep on the sofa. Or one of us does. The other one watches Project Runway and kisses a soft, warm head and realizes the tiny warm body resting fitfully on her chest is quite big these days and won't be able to sleep on a chest comfortably for much longer. Sleep becomes a welcome sacrifice to these midnight moments where I am needed and so I am there and so she rests, nearly peacefully, building up the energy for another powerful day.