I am sooooo sleepy tonight. We spent the day at my parents’ house and Olive got to play with cousin Elinor again – I have some very cute pics from it! But for now, all I know is that I adore my baby girl more than I could ever fathom loving someone or something. Daily she makes me proud and humble, deliciously happy and sometimes melancholy; but always so full of love for her.
The signs are everywhere that our darling girl is growing up so quickly. In fact, yesterday, she made it ALL day without wetting her diaper!!!!! Now today is quite a different story; we had quite a few accidents. But hey, it’s because of today’s mistakes that I feel ok about bragging about yesterday’s perfection! Woo hoo!!!
Check out these other examples…
Vacuuming. Poorly. But still vacuuming.
Taking her pills.
Putting sticky little fingers where they should NOT be.
And taking care of a smaller baby than herself. Too cute.
Granted, in the final picture she’s actually smothering her Baby Latte with a pair of cymbals, but hey.
I have to remind myself constantly that Olive is still a baby/toddler. It’s just that she looks so much older, because of her size, and she understands nearly every word that comes from our mouths. And we do NOT use “baby talk”; we talk to her as though she is our equal. 
For example: “Hey Olive, do you want to go outside?” She affirms this desire and we say, “Ok, go get your shoes on please.” And she runs to the foyer to her shoe crate, picks out a “pair” and then flops on the floor or the bottom step, awaiting her shoeing.
Another example: It’s time for dinner and the play room looks as though a toy bomb went off. We tell her it’s time to clean up. She looks at us while we ask her, “please go get that crayon and put it where it belongs. Thank you.” And off she runs to grab said crayon and runs it over to the easel, where the crayons are stored. Blows my mind. Of course, a lot of times once the crayon is replaced to its home, something else gets taken out and played with, but hey, we take what we can get.
The point? I have to continually tell myself that she’s still young. Very young. And this past week I caught myself telling people who asked her age that “she’ll be 20 months in a week.” And it dawned on me that I should slow down and tell people 19 months. If anything, I want to slow her aging process. And by telling people what she is going to be, I was rushing through what she is. And I do not want to rush anything. I know it may seem like a minor thing, but to me it’s a frame of mind. I don’t want this baby getting older, growing into someone who is embarrassed by her parents instead of seeking our approval and love. So if anything, I want to tell people she’s younger than she is, but definitely not skew her towards the next step. I love her for who she is, not what she will be. 
