Charleigh, at 18 months, delights me completely and utterly. Her love language is (and has always been) physical touch, and she requires extensive cuddling. She's my leg climber and lap hogger. It's a shame she hasn't a reverse beep, because she cracks me up in facing away and backing up until she's close enough to plop into my lap. When Jim kisses me, she scowls and yells: "Mine!"
She has an incredible vocabulary. "Elephant," she says. "Giraffe."
Today, Jim bought the girls ice cream cones, and--after Charleigh's dripped on me--I licked my hand. "Ugh!" I exclaimed. "I'm not supposed to have ice cream! Y'all are the devil!"
"Devil Mommy," Charleigh said, from behind me, flashing her Cheshire Cat grin. Of course, Jim found that hilarious.
Charleigh leans over the sink and spits out toothpaste like an old pro. She dances in a ring, with her arms extended. She eats everything with passion. She's easy peasy. I'm just crazy about her.
|With Grandma B.|
|With My Mom|
|Talking to Mamaw (Jim's Mom)|
|Lovin' on the Snowman|
|With My Dad|