Giving Thanks for the Youngest Child

Little Kerrington, you're not so little anymore.  You're already 18 months old.  In a moment of bad math, which happens more often than I'd like to admit, I calculated this milestone to be halfway to two, but no, oh no, my little one, you're halfway to three.  How you've grown up in front of me remains a mystery, but I suspect it has something to do with that simultaneously rapid and painstakingly slow "one day at a time" deal.

Kerrington, you have wisps of curly hair, and I can't get enough of this.  I often nestle my face into your hair, breathing in your smell -- sometimes lavender shampoo, and sometimes a scent entirely unique to you: a hint of Cheerios, a whiff of peanut butter, a trace of oranges, a nuance of last night's dinner.  This is due to the fact that you rub your your hands across your head when you've finished eating, as if your hair was a napkin.

You'll outgrow this.  In the meantime, I sometimes immobilize you and rinse your head directly under the kitchen spigot right after meals.  Yes, I have used dish soap.  Someday if you have three children of your own, you'll understand this completely.

Kerrington, you spend a lot of your time singing.  Although you don't have many words yet, you are brimming with thoughts and ideas.  Songs bubble forth from you, and you sing.  Oh, my dear, you sing, and when you do, I almost cry with how beautiful it sounds.

You're learning to explore books, and I hope that you come to love them as much as I do.  You sometimes sit in front of our bookshelves and pull every single book onto the floor until you're surrounded by piles of them.  (I'll be okay when you pass this stage.)

You wake up happy, you go to sleep happy, and you spend the bulk of your day happy.  Recently, you've learned how to climb on top of our kitchen table, and you love this.  You stomp and clomp and laugh as if you've found the best stage in the world, and we lower you to the floor again and again because, despite your enjoyment, dancing on a table is not a good habit to form.

You've also discovered markers and how useful they are for coloring on your face.

You're the caboose, Kerrington.  I'm letting you grow, but in my heart I'm clinging to each of your first lasts, writing these memories in my thoughts and my heart.  We are so thankful for you this Thanksgiving, precious little one.

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  1. Three beautiful posts about your baby girls, celebrating each of their unique personalities and loving them each individually... I can't imagine a more fitting way to give thanks.

  2. Oh these pictures are so sweet and your words brought tears to my eyes. There is nothing like a mother's love and you expressed your heart so beautifully! May the spirit of thanksgiving remain! You are so blessed! xo

  3. What a beautiful little darling. Reminds me of my 22 month old bookshelf-emptying, hair-wiping, table-dancing nudist. Toddlers are so fun aren't they.:)


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