Brooklyn, the same Brooklyn I spent months worrying about because she wasn't talking, has become quite quotable.
Before I forget them, a few to share with you:
Me: I love you, Brooklyn!
Brooklyn: I love Daddy!
Me: Daniel is so cute! Brooklyn, isn't Daniel cute?
Brooklyn: Me cute!
Tonight at supper all the boys were enjoying passing a can of parmesan cheese for their pasta. Brooklyn didn't want to be left out of the cheese action. She waved at the can and pointed at her plate. "Powder, Daddy! Powder!"
A couple of weeks ago we got to spend a weekend with my sister, brother-in-law, and nephew, Logan. Brooklyn and Logan have a mostly Instagram relationship. They each love to see the other on their Mama's phone, and they were each happy to actually see each other in person! But all that happiness only goes so far. Once during the weekend Brooklyn came up to me, clearly upset, and saying, "My legs! My legs!" I thought maybe she was hurt or something, but as I let Logan slide from my lap to the floor so I could check on her she began to pat my now empty lap and repeat, "MY legs! MY legs!" So I see how it is. She can share Mama's lap with a baby brother but a girl's got to draw the line somewhere.