18 Months

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So, I am going to really make an effort to try and document the major milestones here as I am still holding out hope that I will one day-SOME day- put all of this in Lucy's baby book. More just to save face for all the years of complaining to my mom that my incomplete baby book was in direct correlation to her love for me. P.S. I totally get it now, Mom. But, because I am stubborn, I'm going to clutch tight to the belief of ONE day completing it. I left off on the day she was born so really... that's just a little bit or so... no?

18 months. We are there. I have to say, I am loving this age for so many reasons.

Lucy can now tell me almost anything she needs. If she isn't able to, I just tell her the word once and then she  forever locks it in to her vastly expanding vocabulary. She's smart like that. It does make it so much easier to bridge the gap in figuring out her needs, especially because while her vocab is greatly expanding, her patience is ever waning. Hello, toddlerdom. 

Aside from the occasional meltdowns, our ninja baby is fun. No, seriously... this kid is quirky as hell. She tells knock knock jokes over the monitor around 2am almost nightly, she reserves her sweetest dance moves for folk music and her funny face she makes all the time is "smooshy face"... see...

it's funny.

She continues to ninja her way into absolutely everything probably because she really believes she is 4-yrs-old. No toilet paper roll is safe in our home with Lucy around. In fact, nothing is safe. The household animals have accepted their fate and allow for at least 3 daily ass whippings love sessions a day. I think that they know her intentions are in the right place. That or they have no self-preservation. Probably the latter.

Lucy is still tiny and becoming increasingly more blonde.

18 Month Stats:

height: 30.5 inches - 10%

weight: 19.2 lbs- >0%

head: 70% (our big brained beauty!)

She totally rocked her vaccines this time. She was clueless pretty much up until the pokes.

And then after a 2 second cry fest, we fixed the rest of the sadness with chocolate. I'm all about instilling healthy coping strategies, no? Hey, it worked.

So, here's to 18 months, señorita smooshy-face. We sure do love you so!