My favorite part of the day

My baby is one year old.

I can tell by how she can run around the house now, and tries to get involved in her sisters games. Her huge blue eyes rimmed with long curly black lashes can convince me to do anything. Her hair curls all over her head and grows into a strange looking little “tail” at the nape of her neck. I love how she leans toward me with a huge grin on her face, daring me to chase her. She can drink out of a sippy cup now, and I think she prefers it to her bottle. Of course she prefers nursing over the cup or bottle (or most solid foods for that matter).

She cannot sit still when she nurses, she wiggles all over my lap, does headstands and sticks her little bottom in the air, and strains her neck around to watch whatever her sisters are doing. All while somehow remaining latched on, it’s pretty amazing to watch.

Her nap times and bedtimes have been all messed up lately because of teething, so she usually goes to bed around the time I do, a few hours after her older siblings. She plays with toys at my feet, brings me strange treasures that she finds in the other room, nurses and snacks on and off, and snuggles. But her favorite activity comes when we head upstairs for the night.

As soon as I put her down on the floor and head off to start my bedtime routine, a mischievous sparkle pops into her eyes. I can hear her giggling as her little feet pad down the hall. If I peek around the corner I can see her sneaking over to the door where she knows her sisters are sleeping. As soon as she spots me spying on her, she erupts into shrieks of laughter and races down the hall. But I always catch her before she can slam into the bedroom door.

Snuggles and tickles all around. And then I try to go back to brushing my teeth. But the instant her little feet hit the floor she takes off for that bedroom door at the end of the hall. And so the game continues, between brushing our teeth and changing into pajama’s my hubby and I take turns chasing down our baby girl.

She is so tired that her balance falters. Sometimes she cannot stay on her feet because she is laughing so hard. No matter how we try to distract her by hugs or talking or piggy-back rides, she will have none of it. She wiggles and squirms, practically leaping out of our arms to tear down the hall again. The giggles give her the hiccups, and despite my own exhaustion I can’t help but laugh. Her joy is contagious.

I’m pretty sure it’s her favorite part of the day, and I know it won’t last forever. Soon enough she will be going to bed on time again. You know you’re a mom when the last part of your day is spent running up and down your hallway giggling.

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