The 1-Year-Old

Wow. Anyone remember this post? Does a year really go that fast?

Here she is, our one-year-old, who has opinions, curiosity, daring, gusto, eight teeth, wicked awareness, and humor.
She had butterbeer cupcakes for her birthday party - watch the VGP, they'll be the next post going up.
My mind is all a-muddle, that's why I haven't posted on this major milestone yet. It's almost too big to write about. But I will kick myself if I don't. (And I kick hard.)

Communication skills are coming right along, but not quite adequate for a whole interview. Instead, I will act as her agent in citing key points.

Words: Dada, Go, More ("moh"), Get-it, This, and such profuse (and super-cutie) head-shaking to communicate refusal and/or contradiction that it definitely counts as a word.

Favorite Games: Peek-a-Boo, wrestling, rolling a ball, and she still loves dump-and-fill with anything.
Skills: Walking is coming along. She made big strides when Grandma Marsha came to visit and taught her how to use a physio ball as a walker. But now she needs no encouragement. She has caught the vision of what walking can offer. We often catch her carefully standing up without holding onto anything, then walking a few steps, grinning big, until plopping down on her bum. AND, thank goodness, she's coordinated all systems to go down stairs backwards. Hip hip hooray!
She is getting better and better at keeping up with her sisters, and can do more things with them than ever...even doing things from the Crazy Box:
And "sharing" her new birthday toys:
Poppy LOVES to feed herself. Favorite Foods: yogurt, goldfish, applesauce, peaches, pretzels, hummus, pasta w/ marinara sauce, bananas, apples, grapes, marshmallows, and pretty much anything someone else has that she doesn't. Unfortunately she does not like cow's milk, so the old weaning thing is going slowly, but I secretly don't mind. And if I want her to try something new, I just give her a spoon or fork with it, and she will at least give it a shot.

The old Tintin crest is gone, but she still gets called a boy all the time. I'm usually not as outraged or rude as I want to be in those situations, but sometimes I give someone something to think about. I mean, I see it. Round face, short straight hair. And sometimes her clothes have delicate feminine details rather than blaring frills and lace. But just ask. If there is any doubt, or even if there's not, just ask.

We don't really call her Spanky Bum Bum anymore, but names that have stuck are "Little Missy" and "Bungaroo" pretty much. Her sisters adore her, and likewise.

Last Sunday, on Mother's Day, the primary kids got up to sing a song in church. As Hazel, Ginger, and all the other kids walked up the aisles to the front of the chapel, Poppy looked around and immediately started crawling double time up the aisle with the kids. She didn't know what was happening, but she knew she belonged in the middle of it. And that pretty much sums her up.