Dearest Amalia,
Nineteen months, and you are quite the little stinker, lover, sweetheart, and instigator. You want to do everything your "SELF" and are really quite talented at figuring out how to get what you want. You eat so well with utensils, put of lotion, brush your teeth, and attempt to put on socks and shoes (though you usually break down and ask for help with that one). You have become quite adept at removing your socks and shoes, though, which is often less than helpful when I think you are fully footed, we try to head out the door and I look down to see your bare feet. You are so silly and so loving and just love to be in the mix with everybody, usually entertaining them. Before going to bed, Sofia and I always say one thing we are grateful for that day before turning off the light. One night, after getting Sofia tucked in, you and I started to rock. You lay your head against my chest and said, "Papa, Me, Roscoe, outside." It was like you were telling me what you were grateful for, too. You still adore doing chickens with Grandpa every day. Then you said, "Daddy, me, home," closed your eyes and went to sleep. I like to think of you remembering him and loving him, and it makes me happy that you are grateful for him, as well. He was so grateful for you, my darling.
Your language is getting better, clearer and longer every day. Sometimes you burst into long soliloquies where there are only a few words I can understand. I find you reading books in your room quite often, and when you see me watching you, you say "Readin'!"
I love you so much, my dear. Thanks for all the smiles and hugs and kisses and laughter you have brought, most especially this past month. You mean the world to me.
Loveyoualwaysandforever,
Mama
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