And A Mommy In A Pear Tree

Emma turned 1 on June 1. It’s hard to believe that a year ago–a little over that now–my Bertolli Italian Sausage pasta dinner was interrupted by an overwhelming need to visit the hospital and the birth of our beautiful second daughter.

Now we’ve entered my favorite of the baby stages: 12-18 months. Full night’s sleep (well, 5 out of 7 ain’t bad). Walking. People food. One nap. Temper tantrums.

Yep. I’ve got one who loves temper tantrums. Usually at night–around the 6:30 hour–you can find her rolling around on the floor screaming for no apparent reason. We’ve just eaten, she’s taken a great nap during the day, her diaper’s clean–I seriously think she just loves the drama of it all. And who can fault her for that? Especially coming from such a long line of dramatic women.

One night not too long ago, however, Emma stumbled onto something that thrilled her even more than her evening temper tantrum . . .

I don’t know if you can see it–but that’s the look of victory.