Julia's walking. She was taking steps last week, but she's done with that, thank you very much. Now she chooses walking over crawling, and holds one hand up over her head as she goes. It looks either like she's still holding someone's hand (proto-imaginary friend?) or like a victory punch. Hi-yah!
Is there any sight sillier than a nude toddler? I mean, roly-poly beligerant waddling? Really?
She is also starting to get signs, come when I ask, point and nod when she wants things. Sometimes this backfires, as now she is sure that we just won't give her something, instead of perhaps just not understanding her. The other day she gave Dyami the saddest-clown face ever when he said no, and then (one-one thousand, two one-thousand) burst into tears.
Ah, my toddler. Still snuggly, still pudgy, still only with six teeth. Still a baby, sort of. And yet: you are leaving babyhood quickly as your little bow legs will take you. Sweet girl, I love you at any age.