Somewhere in the past couple weeks, Lily turned two. That’s not to say she was forgotten about, but rather is even more proof of how there aren’t enough hours in the day, especially to blog lately.
My little girl is growing up. She amazes me every day. Affectionate, hilarious, and has the ability to make me laugh when I want to scream, like when she will.not.sleep.whatsoever.ohmygod.
Everyday we explore new ideas and learn new things and even more words. We partake in conversation and we say I Love You about five hundred times a day. She is my joy, my world, my everything I dreamed she would be.
She’s in a stage now where she needs mommy. A lot. Like holding her in my lap while I poop a lot. We cuddle a lot, I carry her a lot, and we haven’t been more than a few inches apart for days.
But we also tell secrets a lot. Or rather, she listens to mine. We snuggle a lot. We grin a lot, with our noses touching and her sweet baby breath pouring into my nostrils. Her soft, warm hands will wake me in the morning touching my cheek, playing with my hair, or fiddling with the straps on my pyjamas. She will literally sleep on top of me at night, and ill find both my arms wrapped around her and her blonde hair halfway down my throat and in my eyeballs. And this is how I like to sleep now.
Its just after midnight, and I’m waiting for her bedroom door to FLY open and have her pad down the hallway in her strawberry shortcake jammies, fling herself into my arms and have her say with her eyes half closed `sokay, mommy right here.”

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