Full Tilt

Today, I bought a passel of pregnancy tests. They were on clearance at Target, and a really good price, which is the excuse I used for the Boy. But really, for me, they're a symbol of hope. I feel better, somehow, knowing that sometime in the near (or at least, not so distant) future, I'll have cause to use them.

But on to the reason I'm posting today. I've been wallowing so long in the sadness for the baby I won't have that I haven't been writing much of the funny, silly amazing baby I do have. She's walking a lot now, and has even started to run. She's taken to careening around our family room, shouting "oops" every time she falls down, and giggling madly as she heads for our open arms, only to veer off at the last second and dare us to chase her. They warm me to my soul, those giggles.

Plus, she's an insane little chatterbox. At last count (warning: bragging ahead), she had sixteen words. The latest is "bird," a souvenir of my mother-in-law's time with her. The Cheeto is fascinated with nature, and will spend up to 10 minutes at a time gazing at the bird feeder or into the holly bush next to our sunroom, watching the birds flit by.

The Cheeto is the huggiest child I know. She's constantly reaching out for a hug, and is completely undiscriminating in her objects. Today, we were at lunch at a burrito place, and she kept reaching out to the woman in line behind us, who was carrying her own 11-month-old daughter. The woman seemed a little appalled -- she kept telling the Cheeto that she barely knew her, and didn't really want to go to a stranger. But oh, how she does. The Cheeto spends most of our playgroups following my friend A around, asking to be picked up. A loves it, because she loves my kid (she's a good friend, and her son has the most charming smile I've ever seen). And to be honest, I love that my little girl has such an open, affectionate heart. I'm willing to share her cuddles, and long as I get my share.