Dear D,

Today, in just a few minutes, you turn 18 months old.

You're funny. And silly. You named your lovey after your grandma. You think your dad is hilarious. (You are correct.) You like to jump on the bed and hide under blankets and tickle Mom.

You're smart. You can count to 20. You know most of your colors, most of the time. You speak in three-word sentences, and sometimes more. You know the words (and hand actions) to lots of songs, especially Wiggles songs. You watch and study things until you can figure out how to do them yourself. After a year of fairly intensive sign-language you still have yet to do a single sign. Because you just said the word, and then looked at me like I was a moron. (You are correct.)

You really love your sister. You miss her while she's at school, and ask for her the entire time. You like to say that you are three and that your favorite color is pink, because that's what she would say. You're her partner in crime.

You give the best hugs. And the best kisses. And I love you. So much.

Happy half, plus one, Bug. You kick ass.