It's July, and you've been walking for over a month now. You've been toddling around the house like the little person you are. Also, all of that walking has taken the baby fat right off of your bones. You keep on getting bigger, but you're getting thinner, too. With the genes you inherited from your mom and dad, you'll probably be thin as a rail for the first 30 years of your life. That was hard to imagine even two months ago because you were such a cute little roll of baby fat, but these days you're starting to look like you are your parents' daughter.
Last night when I got home from work, you came bobbling over to me and grabbed me around my neck. Once in a while (this is the second time) you just can't get enough of Daddy, which I think is just about the best thing that ever happened. If I put you down, you followed me around with your arms in the air, moaning like a baby elephant until I picked you up again. I spent a good part of the evening trying to do my part as a member of the Varo-Haub household while holding you with one arm.
For the last several weeks, it seems like you learn a new word every day. You've been calling your socks "sschhccs" for about three weeks now. Every animal in the world is a "tat" (and to be fair, the two largest animals in your house are cats, so you're right a good percentage of the time). The other day you said something that sounded like "pants" when I was changing you and then you laughed your little head off.
Today you started calling Bella, "bellabellabellabella." You chased her around the house for at least an hour doing that. I can't tell you how cute it is.
Your mom really likes letting you feed yourself. I feel very good about this idea in principle, but in reality, you make the biggest, craziest messes. The animals pace below your high chair, waiting for the detrius of the dinner experience, fighting over the scraps that seem to fly in all directions at once.
Fortunately, you get a bath every night, where you love use your little plastic watering can. You dunk it until the bubbles stop, then holding it tightly around the spout like it's a baseball bat, you lift it up in the air and giggle while the water pours directly out of the holes in the bottom of the spout.
You're starting to climb up on top of things, which is scary but also wonderful. It just means that we follow you everywhere you go in the house.
You are precious, and don't ever forget how much we love you, mi querida Zoe.