Anjelica just had her first birthday. She is such a smart little cookie, and so darn cute. She loves everything pink and anything Minnie Mouse… well… maybe that’s me. She’s been walking for quite a while, and has quite an extensive vocabulary for her age. I keep up on what she’s “supposed” to be doing by what age, and she’s consistently ahead of schedule. She can do some basic counting, and even has a great sense of humor. I kept talking to her about her upcoming birthday and telling her that she was going to be one year old, and she understood. But if I ask her, “How old is Anjelica?” she smiles, raises two fingers and says, “Two!” She laughs, and I say, “No, you’re one,” and put down one of her fingers. She just laughs right back and insists, “No, I’m two!” and puts her second finger back up. She is so much fun all the time. I sometimes take her to work with me, and she plays with toys I have stashed in a box under my desk, and she isn’t shy about wandering around to hang out with all the other people in the office. Just about everyone happily offers a lap, paper, and markers and lets her play at their desk, too.
Lou even has a great time playing with her now that she can interact more; she loves to roughhouse with him, and especially likes it when he makes an Anjelica sandwich. That’s when she runs around our bed until he catches her, and then picks her up and smooshes her between two pillows and tosses her down on the bed. She gets up over and over laughing and giggling the whole time squealing, “Do it again!” She’s never gotten hurt that way, but on her birthday she had her first and only injury ever to draw blood. I was sitting with her on our bed, she was playing beside me, and she just kind of tipped over the edge and hit her head on the nightstand. I caught her before she fell off, but I wasn’t quick enough. Now she has a diagonal cut across her forehead that kind of looks like mine from when I got hit in the head with a shovel at age three or four. Hopefully hers won’t scar for life like mine did. We have a king sized bed now, and gave her our old “big bed” which she loves. Seems ridiculous for a one year old to have a double bed, but she had learned how to climb out of her crib, so it just wasn’t safe to keep her in it any longer. Besides, now it is easier for me to lay down with her to a read her a story at bedtime, and cuddle before she goes to sleep. That’s my favorite part of every day.