Dear Eisley

To my sweet, strong-willed girl,

Three days ago, you celebrated the 18 month milestone.  I waited to blog until after your doctor appointment so I had the official stats - you are at the developmental level of a 23 month old and have the moodiness of a 13 year old.  You are jumping growth curves in regards to height - you are now above average with a height of 33 inches.  Your weight is slightly below the 50th percentile, and your big ol' noggin is still hovering in the 90th percentile.

I think I have consumed more coffee in your short little lifetime than an entire congregation full of elderly people does in its entire existence.  Your sleep still leaves a lot to be desired with nights slept completely through in the single digits.  And on top of little sleep, this whole mothering thing that I had down to an exact science was thrown completely off kilter when you arrived.  The chasing never stops, the redirecting is constant, and your energy...well, I wish it was contagious.  Usually, you are able to refill your energy with a nap while I spend precious time gently putting the house back together.

You went through a phase that lasted for months - painful months - where your communication consisted of very high pitched screeching, as if you were giving warnings about the things that you found unacceptable.  If it escalated beyond that, it was a full fledged fit.  You understand the phrase "Use your words, please." and will often rethink your thoughts about screeching communication and use the appropriate words to specify wants.  Your vocabulary has taken off in the last couple of months - you mimic everything, and expand your list of words daily.

I would go so far as to say that you might, probably, definitely have a shoe fetish.  We have shoe fashion shoes every single day, multiple times a day.  Coming in a close second in terms of "fetishes" would be markers, and pretty much anything you can do a whole lotta damage in a little amount of time.  Crayons, chalk, pens.  I'm now convinced that you hoard them, because I have no idea where they surface.

You get into things at record speed.  With the way that you have used sharpies, inhaled things that warranted a phone call to poison control, and fallen off of things, you'd think I sleep all day and leave you to destroy whatever.  It's the five seconds it takes to fill a cup of coffee that you have deemed it necessary to change my computer from white to purple, and then you saunter off with a guilty smile in search of more trouble.  We often call you our little boy - you love to play ball, you will wrestle, jump off of things, and climb.  Rough and tumble little girl in some faux fur boots.

You have recently become very aware of the potty and when you need to go, but we haven't quite made the connection, and you still find it slightly scary.  I'm impressed with your ability to tell me you need to go potty, but you always request a "popper" with a panicked look.

You don't have time to sit and eat most days.  I blamed teething for several months, since you have basically been teething since January, but now that we are nearly done (I can see the last two through the gums!), I don't think I can blame that any longer.  If I could get you to eat healthy people food like you eat paper, cardboard, and dog food, I think you'd be far above the 50th percentile in weight.  You often ask for cheese, and your favorite food seems to be cereal with milk.  You also like oatmeal, yogurt, applesauce (sensing a trend here?), nuts, peanut butter sandwiches, and noodles on occasion.  You are a blueberry and strawberry fiend, and like your sister, you steal coffee when I'm not looking.

Your are ornery.  A spitfire.  Firecracker.  Driven.  Spirited.  Wild.  Daring.  Different. Opinionated.

You are also so unbelievably special to me.  You are lovable (on your own terms), give the best kisses and hugs, and flash the greatest smiles.  I love you.  All of you.  The way you say "mama" will forever be etched in my mind - the sweetest little voice.  The way you look up to your "sis sis" and the way you want to do what she is doing.  The way you run everywhere-there is no time for walking.  Your love for animals, and specifically dogs and ducks.  The way you get excited about suckers.  The part of you that actually does show a bit of fear--in a bubble bath of all things.  Your dimples.  Your wispy, fine hair - something that makes you seem so much more baby like.  Your chubby feet.  The way you snuggle perfectly into my arms and belly while you sleep.

I feel like I have always known you - and I think that's because you are so...me.  You are busy, and you are a lot of work, but life with you is never dull and always rewarding.

I love you to the moon, baby girl.  I cannot believe you are already 18 months old!

XOXO,
Momma