Today is the 18-month anniversary of your birth, and it feels like this is the last of the “non-birthday” occasions of note.  After today, we’ll likely stop measuring the time you’ve been with us in months.  Years will become the base metric from here on out.

And, somehow, that’s a little bittersweet.

Fishbutt rompers will probably go by the wayside, too.

I can say that the past six months haven’t been the easiest on your daddy, although you’ve had absolutely nothing to do with that.  Quite the opposite,  actually.  You, my dear girl, have been absolutely wonderful to be around.  In fact, I think this is the happiest I’ve ever seen you.

Actually, I’ve never met such a joyful little girl in my entire life.

You careen around the house screaming “AWOOOOO! WHEEEEEEEE!” for hours at a time, as if the simple act of moving at speeds faster than a walk is the greatest thing in the world.  You’re not entirely steady, however, so when you really start to get ramped up we have to relocate you upstairs to where it’s carpeted.

And when you’re not running, you’re reading.

You read.

All.  The.  Time.

And your mother and I couldn’t be happier about that particular peccadillo of yours…despite how it might sometimes look.

Your favorite foods have stayed the same too.  Chicken strips and rice is still your favorite dinner, and your love of dad’s scrambled eggs with sliced strawberries and Martinelli’s apple juice in the mornings has remained constant as well.

A new development, however, has been the gentle pats and strokes on the arm of anyone that happens to be holding you.  When I pick you up in the morning, you rest your head on my shoulder and absently rub my arm.  And it is, without question, the best part of my day.

You’re also grown incredibly patient for a girl that’s just 18-months old.  On car trips, I regularly assume that you’ve fallen asleep, given how quiet you are back there.  But no, when I look behind me you’re almost always staring out the window, happily watching the world go by.  (Occasionally humming to yourself while you do so.)  And when I turn back around, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude for for the little girl that you’re becoming, and wonder what I possibly could have done to deserve such a wonderful daughter.

I love you more and more every day, my little girl.

Love,

-Dad-