Twenty months old

Hi my sweet girl,

This morning we went for the same walk we took every day when you were brand new. We would start at our house and go up, up, up to McLaren park, swoop down over the foot bridge, back up by the sandbox with cement turtles, past the old and wise eucalyptus trees and back down home.

We haven't done this walk in a long time, and I've missed it.

You're getting bigger by the day. Sure, you're small, in the fifth percentile small, but with such giants for parents I don't expect a WNBA player out of you. You eat well and you've got baby fat in all the right places and your new doctor insisted you looked just right.

Thank heaven I came to my senses and dumped your old doctor who always made me feel lower than pond scum.

But this is about you, walking head on into your twentieth month tomorrow. You say new words every day - this morning we were practicing our animal words: dog, cat, mouse, cow, pig, zebra, giraffe, bear, sheep and elephant. Okay, you can't say elephant yet, but you can say the rest of them!

What amazes me completely is that you know the difference between all these animals. How is it you can differentiate between a cat and a dog? They both have four legs and furry bodies, there are small dogs that are about the size of a cat, yet you know which is which. How?

Speaking of cats, Unagi has started sleeping with you at night. I don't know if you're keeping her warm or vice versa, but it's wonderful to see Unagi curled up at your feet. This morning you woke up happy and when Daddy went in your room, he said you were playing with the cat.

You play "tag" with the cats on a regular basis - lumbering towards them and then running away with shreaks of laughter when they come back at you.

The other day you amazed my waxing lady by signing please when you wanted me to read your book again. "She knows sign language?!" Sofia marveled.

"Ava knows a few signs, just enough to fill in the blanks for words." For once, little one, I felt like I could be a candidate for Mom of the Year.

The other day I brought your Daddy a plate of cookies I just baked. You stole his last cookie and ate it when he wasn't looking.

He asked you, "Ava, where are the cookies?"

You looked at the plate and signed "all done!" I can see your sense of humor is developing at a good rate.

You're starting to figure out how to jump. You bend your knees and bounce a bit, but you haven't worked out the gravity restrictions. You like to bounce on the trampoline at My Gym and you watch the other toddlers jump, you just haven't figured it out for yourself yet.

The Christmas tree has been a big attraction for you. Daddy and I put it up while you were hanging out with your Nana. The first day or two you were afraid to go near it, likely wondering how a full grown tree sprouted in our living room.

Now, of course, ornaments routinely walk off of the tree and mysteriously appear in your bedroom. Of particular attraction are the teddy bear ornaments that your Auntie Brie and I bought at Harrods in England three years ago.

Someday I will take you to England and show you the miles of shopping in Harrods. Maybe we'll buy something there, maybe we won't. We'll take the London underground from place to place, delighting in the foreign accent and new sights.

Someday yes, I will introduce you to my passion for travel. Maybe you will love it as I do, maybe you won't.

I often wonder what you'll like as you grow bigger. Right now you love everything we're doing and I'm even looking for a Ava-sized broom so you can sweep when Mommy does.

For now, you have swept us up with your charm and infectious laugh.

I never knew love could be so big.