Precious

How is it that the littlest, messiest, noisiest people are so precious? Lydia is such a stinker. For instance, right now while I am trying to type she is screaming, climbing all over me and trying to help me type, and mad that I won't let her.  But she is also so sweet. Just a moment before all the trauma she was giving me smiles and kisses. And now she is back to laughing and giggling and snuggling with me. 

I love her little feet - so little, so chubby, and the cute little toes.

I love to make her laugh - she has the cutest laugh.

She has crazy hair, not as crazy as Becca's, but still, it's crazy, although, it has a slight curliness  to it, I don't know where she gets that from. 

Lydia is my constant companion, she doesn't like to be out of my sight. Sometimes that is obnoxious, but I remind myself to enjoy it, although my little shadow is less than helpful sometimes (hands in everything while I'm trying to cook, pulling folded clothes on the floor, pulling things on the floor that I just put away) she won't stay little for much longer and soon I won't have a baby anymore