You are 16 months old now. I never thought I’d say this (because you were petite for so long), but you are actually chubby. Probably because you eat lots of cheese. And everyday your Papa comes home from work, scoops you up into his arms, and heads straight for the cabinet where the chocolate is stored. You get some nibbles too, of course, and now you’re hooked. You will often point to the cabinet for your chocolate fix, but only when he’s holding you.
You have officially entered toddlerdom: you started walking this week! We are so proud of you. I consider it a blessing that you’ve crawled around this long. It’s made the beloved baby stage last that much longer.
You like to talk, and talk with your hands and make lots of facial expressions. You’ve recently started saying semi-intelligble words like belly button, hi, and oh wow. And my favorite—when you do downward facing dog and say down dog while you’re doing it. That’s my girl!
Now, this can’t be all praise because I do have one bone to pick with you, and that’s sleep. It takes nearly 30 minutes to get you down these days, and there is no sure method of how to do so. I hope there comes a day when we can cuddle up and read until you become very drowsy, and then we’ll place you in your crib and you’ll peacefully close your eyes. Because right now, all we have are tears, and lots of kicking and squirming, and I-just-had-a-shot-of-espresso-please-don’t-make-me-go-to-sleep. It’s exhausting and momentarily depressing.
But aside from the the sleep thing, you are amazing. Sometimes you fist a piece of grapefruit and squeeze it so hard your face turns red and we both start giggling. Or you bear-hug a stuffed animal, kiss its nose, and wrestle on the ground with it. And this one face you make—the furrowed brow with your head slightly tilted down—cracks me up every time. Everyone comments on happy you are; I have no frame of reference, so it all seems normal to me. But maybe it’s true, maybe you are living up to your name, Sayla Joy.