Just shy of Birthday Numero Uno, our baby seems more like a little girl each day. After months of hesitancy, she's become a vigorous -- outta my way, sucka -- player.
She knocks over toys. She waves her arms like there's no tomorrow. She sits in her chair, sizing up pink robot dog from the Happy Meal and other toys with a seriousness unseen this side of the War College. She does odd little dances. Meals resemble monkey lunches at the zoo: Lots of banging and demands for more.
It's nice to see. Sniff sniff. Our little baby is growing up.