Happy 1st Birthday, Eva!
Sweet Eva Lorraine is one today. I’ve been in a state of shock all week basically, coming to terms with the fact that my third baby is well on her way out of babyhood and into toddlerness. But, I’m not going to wax poetic about her baby days again (see my last post for that here). This post is all about Sweet E and the wonderful life that is hers, for posterity, but mostly because I’m wildly sentimental about this sort of thing and will revisit it regularly. We’re having her bigger birthday party with all the extended family next weekend, but you just can’t turn one without having a cupcake on The Day, so we had a mini party this afternoon, just to celebrate our sweet girl.
Eva is the smallest of the Peas–where her older two siblings were well into 18 mo and 2t clothes by their first birthdays, Eva is right between 12 and 18 month clothes, but definitely not OUT of the 12 month size. She has 6 teeth, and has been walking since just before she turned 9 months old.
I know I use the word ‘sweet’ to describe her a lot, but it fits her completely. She is basically just a cupcake of quiet sweetness. She is quieter and prefers to just watch the action if there are a lot of people around, but when we’re home she is cheery and very vocal, and adores her big sister and brother. They take great delight in making her laugh, and it’s not so unusual to find them all laughing hysterically over Klaus’ antics or Sophia’s silly faces. Watching her personality develop and noticing both the differences and the similarities to Sophia and Klaus bring us great delight. She certainly has whittled out her own place in the crew between Sophia’s vivacious, precocious sweetness and Klaus’ equal parts crazy boy and delightfully affectionate, bringing a generally quieter personality to the table.
“Mama” and “Dada” are her favorite words, and she hums along when I sing to her at naptime and bedtime. Her neck hugs are the best. She runs with her arms outstretched and the widest, sunbeamy smile until I scoop her up and she can fling those little outstretched arms around my neck and pat my shoulders. Heart. Melted. Every. Time. Those little pats!