Charlotte Pear: 18 Months

When I was younger, I wanted to be a mother and homeschool my children. Regardless of the differences between my mother and me, I love what she gave her life to, and want to spend my life the same way.

Because both my mother and Grandmother had three children by age 27, I always imagined I would too. Yesterday, Matt and I were praying together, and he said something, to God, that helped me. He said, "Thank you for Charlotte. Even if she's the only baby we get to raise together, thank you that we have her."

Spending all day with anyone can get a little irksome; You learn their most admirable qualities and their subtle failures. Charlotte Pear is one of my best friends. She's gotten clingy lately: hugging my legs when I'm walking from room to room, holding my hand unprompted. It's beautiful. When we ride in the car, and I can't see her, her little voice carries to me, "I mees you!" Oh, to be missed during a fifteen minute car ride. She's a gift.

Matt had come home from work, and we were all snuggling together on our bed with tickles and stories of the adventures we'd been on when Charlotte rolled toward Matt, "I lul you." There was silence before he burst into smiles and tackle kisses, while telling her repeatedly, "You're so nice to me. I love you. I love you."

She counts. Mostly, she counts to two, but on rare occasions she's made it to five. She says practically everything, stringing words together in ways that convey larger ideas, blowing us out of the water with her brilliance.

I want to remember how bright and small and big she was at 18 months.