Seventeen months

Hi sweet girl,

Last weekend you went on your first ever camping trip up to Silver Lake. You ingested so much dirt that I believe any mineral deficit you may have had has completely disappeared.

You loved the dirt. You scooped up shovels full and dumped it into a bucket. You picked up handfuls and then emptied the dirt into my hand, as if to say, this is great stuff, Mom, you need some too.

I just laughed and said, "Dirt, Ava just handed me dirt."

I kept you in the same overalls all weekend, exchanging them only for pajamas at bedtime. We took Broham, our faithful 19-foot 1978 Dodge RV and shared a campsite with my brother and his family.

On Sunday a tribe of us went for a hike along beautiful water-worn granite with running water passing through. You were elated bouncing along in the backpack on Dadada's back until we got to a good stopping point and he put your feet in the water. You weren't sure about that cold water at first, but then later you strained against my arms to get more of it.

You got to see your Grandma Bear, your Great Grandpa Jerry, and a selection of other family members who all decided you were adorable. Such a great baby! So mellow! And you are, as good as they come for a 17 month old little girl.

Speaking of 17 months, you just had your 17 month birthday on Monday. Seventeen months already and you're doing all kinds of things these days.

Yesterday, you started saying Mommy. I wasn't really sure I was the Mommy type, but the decision is in your hands, so Mommy it is. You say all kinds of things, although you don't call the cats "kitty" you do seem to call Unagi somthing that sounds like "aaahhhgeeee" which is close enough for horseshoes.

You walk all over the place now, and even walk away from me in public places. You're pretty good at minding me though, when I ask you to stay inside or stay close. I appreciate this, believe me!

You can find your head and your nose, reliably, although my best efforts have not helped you find your ears or tummy. You are fascinated with your belly button, and the other morning I told you as you were poking your finger in it that in that exact spot you were connected to me. Your Dadada interjected by saying "And I cut you loose!"

Speaking of Dadada, the game he has taught you lately is that he'll honk when you squeeze his nose and beep when you squeeze your own. I didn't know about this game and wondered why you were giving me such a curious look when you squeezed my nose, nor why you were squeezing it in the first place.

Yesterday in the car, we had a whole conversation of whispered da's. I was on the phone, waiting for someone, and you said dadada in a whisper. I responded with a whispered da-da. We continued the da rally for about two minutes, lobbing and volleying one, two, or three da's back and forth.

All things considered, my little love, I wouldn't trade you for anything.

I love you,
Mamama
aka Mommy