My sweet, little Stella is 18 months old today. 18 months old. I absolutely cannot believe it! When I told Stella this morning during a mad rush that it's her half birthday, I asked her if she wanted to do a little photo shoot. She looked me square in the eye and said, ever -so-matter-of -factly,
So she made her way down off the chandelier she was climbing on (which was probably not in fact not a chandelier, but more of a standing-on-the-coffee-table sort of the thing. Which might be worse than swinging from a chandelier. I don't know.) and headed to this particular chair, by this particular window and started posing away.
And here is her "look at me, I'm so much fun at 18-months pose".
Then she immediately climbed down and back onto the coffee table and began contemplating how to get enough air to get jump to the couch. She is crazy and a daredevil, and will most likely give me a heart attack by the time I'm 31.
But she is my precious girl. The light of my life. My heart and soul. And I love my Stelly Belly with every ounce of my being.
Happy 18 months!