My Baby Girl is Growing Up.

This girl is all farm. She'd be out from dawn until dusk and then prefer to sleep in the barn if I'd let her. She's me all over again.

She'll be a year old in twelve days. Twelve days! How can a year fly by like that? How did she turn into a person in a blink of an eye? I brought home a little bundle that just ate and pooped and slept and now she runs and laughs and plays and thinks and does things for herself. My goodness is she independent. I swear everything is, "I can do it myself." or at least that's what I believe that stubborn look in her eye signifies.

We'll be walking along and she'll want to go in another direction or do something else. I start to pull her in a better direction, and she'll just let go and try to run headlong in the direction she chose. Go figure. At least she knows exactly what she wants and isn't afraid to go for it. I hope she keeps that trait throughout life. I want her to be the kid that doesn't need the trendy things that all the other kids have. I hope she dresses for herself and no one else. I hope she lives for herself and no one else. She's a tough kid, she gets hurt and she just brushes herself off and picks herself up. No tears required. She's a sweet kid, she hugs and kisses and smiles and laughs. She's a good kid, she makes our family complete.

She uses the big girl potty at least three times a day, and has been since she was a little under six months old. She has even taken to reading magazines while she pees in the morning which I find hilarious and wish I could take a picture, but I don't want to be that parent. This morning she spotted her shoes over by the changing table just as she sat down. "That." She said as she pointed her perfect little finger out (which at the moment has a huge gash on it from a tumble with a stick on concrete this past week). "Shoe?" I say to her. "You've got to finish pottying before we can go outside." This seemed a bit of hindrance to her, so she proceeded to attempt to hop down off the potty and get her shoes on herself. "No, Joe." I tell her with my best stern-sounding voice. She eyes me a bit to see if she wants to push the issue. I keep my eyes locked on hers and try to look as serious as possible. She decides it better just to finish pottying instead. "Good girl, Joe. What a big girl." I tell her and she claps her hands as we head over to the changing table to re-diaper and get dressed. When I set her up to tie her hair back she leans over the edge to again point at her shoes. "That." She says looking at me as if to say, "Well you told me we could go outside, so let's get to it." We put her shoes on and a heavy jacket and ventured outside.

She's got a barn kitten that took to her a few months ago and they are best buddies now. She usually meets us someplace between our house and the barn and as soon as Joe spots her she says, "Cat!" in a sweet little high pitched way. This makes the kitten pick up it's pace and Joe usually speeds up a bit too. They are like long lost friends meeting after months of separation. How preposterous to be kept apart all night long. It's pretty neat that they're so close. Although she likes all the farm animals very much the cats seem to be her favorites right now.

She's been in her own room for over a week now (she'd been in our room for the air conditioning over the summer). She (and I) are learning that it's okay for me to not jump up at her first whimper, and that she can put herself to sleep without being rocked (although I still cuddle with her before we head to bed). She's taken all this in stride. No screaming fits, not a tear. Just a few noises (mostly her singing to herself) and then all quiet. I peek on the monitor and she's curled up with her head on her pillow just like the big girl she is. Sometimes when I look at her she seems even older and wiser than her eleven months. She knows more than me, and I'm not going to try to act like that's not the case. She's got it all figured out, and I'm just along for the ride.

Smiling with her tongue between her teeth just like I used to. How I keep from squeezing her all day long is just a matter of utmost willpower.