You're 15 months old today.

But you’re still my baby, my last little baby. I love so much about you. I love how the small upside down triangles leading away from the puddle remind me that life’s simplest pleasure comes from being sprayed by the hose.














I love how you whisper "nun-nun" so softly while aggressively looking down my shirt in search of your beloveds.

I love that for this moment in time, I'm your only girl.

Whether they’re on matchbox cars, your little red wagon, a shopping cart, or my vacuum; you love wheels.














I love that you’ve learned sign language; your capacity to absorb new information continually overwhelms me.

You don’t like baths and you’ll only shower in my arms. Thank you for teaching me how to effectively bathe one-handed.

You head-bang along to the theme song to That 70’s Show.

We clapped for you when you threw your soiled diaper in the garbage and now you expect applause every time you drop your sippy cup in there too.

I’ve taught you to sniff your father’s toes and say “blech!”

When you want a tractor ride you sign cracker because, well, don’t they sound awfully similar?

You’ve taught me that sleep is overrated.

You’ve taught me that sometimes breastfeeding has absolutely nothing to do with nutrition and everything to do with serenity and security.

You’ve learned to climb.















And climb.















Your relentlessly picky eating habits help me acknowledge and manage my own control issues with food.

You are the glue that makes the five of us related.

You've taught your big brother and big sister to be unselfish.

Without your small warm body in my arms this summer I fear my heart would shatter into one thousand lonely pieces.

Happy 15 month day my little Papoose!