This child has reached new heights of cuteness that I cannot adequately describe. I mean, sure, she was cute before, but the longer those curls get and the more words (and pseudo-words) she adds to her vocabulary, the more often I need to pick her up and squish her.
She allows Esky to mother her (Esky is the one who gets "a friend" for her when she is dozing off for her nap, and then Esky is the one that tucks a blanket in around her -- even if it's really quite warm). Ivy's a major copycat when she's up and around, so it shouldn't surprise me that she doesn't mind being Esky-fied. I'm also almost always grateful for her copying ways, because Esky's pretty rad. She copies her big sister right down to the way she pairs her boots and sits them outside the door when she comes in. The boots line-up regularly gets me a little choked up -- it's one of my "it's really happening / they're really here" sights. Back to the copying -- just two nights ago, during scripture reading, I watched with fascination while Ivy fixated on Esky's crossed legs and Ivy simulated the same pose, then kept flipping which leg was on top and how they were interlocked, looking at Esky all the while.
She is an outdoors girl. She always wants to go outside and stay outside. She's excited to accompany me three steps from our door to the wheeliebin with recycling to dump. Dismay follows when she realises this is the extent of our walk.
Her hair is long enough to fit into tiny pigtails. Eeee!
She still picks up blocks and other objects, puts them to her ear, and pretends to be on the phone. And I don't spend much time on the phone. That is what she is doing here, while picking a daisy. That's one serious phone call. That's also multi-tasking. Thattagirl.
She is crazy about porridge ("podge!"), yoghurt, brushing her hair, cheese, baths, swings, my shoes, having music playing in the girls' room, colouring, and puzzles (she's starting on jigsaws because our exhaustive collection of wooden puzzles are now too easy).