She climbs everything. She opens everything. She picks on the other kids at the creche. She steals PlayMobil. She still hasn't figured out that there are two Stinkies, but she knows there is only one Da-Da. It's him she wants when she falls down and it's only him that can rub her leg in the car to calm her down.
She uses toothpaste as body lotion on her dolls, is fascinated by the way dog fur sticks to fleece, and dances to any music you play. She struts around, full of confidence, in such a way that I can't help but think of my mother-in-law. Rosie's blue eyes twinkle just like hers and hope this means that she will be as forceful in spirit and as generous in kindness as Annie is.
She's wonderful. She's hard work. She's beautiful. She's a terror. She is more than anything I could have ever imagined. She is one of the four best things The Man & I have ever done.
Our baby is two. Happy Birthday, Rosie. You have no idea how much you are loved.