I'm not sure if you know this, but your daddy and I fall more in love with you every single day. All of a sudden, at 16 months old, you've blossomed into a little bundle of spit-fire energy and personality. It's almost like you just realized exactly who we are: You love pointing to yourself and saying "JJ" and then pointing to me and saying "mama" and to dad and saying "dada." It makes me heart swell with gratitude when I realize that you love me (almost) as much as I love you. And that you know you can trust us. And that you've discovered this confidence in yourself, despite remaining quite dependent on us for all your needs and your security. This stage is definitely separation anxiety 101 for us, and the kiddos at church think you're mean because you only want your mommy or daddy. Secretly I love it. Zack and Sabo (aka "Ack and Bo") are the only ones you'll trust and let hold you. Which also warms my heart.
One thing you probably know by now about your mommy is that she tends to ramble. And lose things, including her train of thought. And this letter is surely no exception.
Anyways, you LOVE reading (like your momma) and are a little obsessed with personal hygiene (clearly unlike your momma). Maybe you get that from your reformed germ-phobe daddy. Every time the water runs, you sign "wash hands" or "brush teeth." And after I let you
You're a signing machine, and I could not be more grateful to my bloggy friend Rachel for suggesting it (the Baby Signing Time videos worked like a charm for those of you who are wondering). I can't tell you how many times every day I tell you to "chillax" and tell me what you want rather than just, you know, throwing a royal fit. Half the time you just sign "please" which doesnt really help but it's better than "falling out" (as the kiddos call it).
You totally crack me up on a daily basis. I literally LOL (see? I'm a cool mom, it's sorta my thing) at you multiple times a day. See exhibit A, the face I get when I tell you to smile:
You've also recently discovered your voice, and we have long gibberish conversations throughout the day. Your "talking" mostly sounds like some African language, especially when you see something you think might be a horse and you click your tongue (because that's what you think the horsey says. Not neigh. Click.) Your favorite words are "hat" and "ball' and pretty much every animal sound. You're quite good at them actually. Well, except horse; we're still working on that one.
Thankfully, you have finally discovered that sleep is NOT the enemy. Tonight, in fact, you practically begged me to put you to bed at 6:30pm. Bliss, sweet baby, that's what it means for daddy and me. Eating, however, is not your favorite thing. I'm not sure who you belong to when you even turn down cheese and chick-fil-a. But seriously, lets work on that one ok? It's driving me crazy.
Despite your quirks, the face-slapping and tantrum-throwing, and that stubborn streak that just came right out of left field, I'm pretty sure you are the best little girl in the whole world. And that's my honest, un-biased opinion.
Love you forever (Although I hate that book. Cause it's a little creepy in my opinion),