Happy

I think that's what you're saying. Or puppy. Or happy puppy. Or something like that.

But it really does sound like happy. You say it all day long in between strings of jibberish punctuated with barks at Reggie and any other dog you see or hear.

I don't know if you know what it means, but to me you are what it means. You are happy. You smile all day long at everyone you meet and you don't stop until you are deeply asleep.

In the morning, when we hear you talking from your bed, Daddy comes to get you. It's his morning treat to scoop you out of your crib and listen to your waking up sounds. He brings you into me on our bed and you grin and kick with such excitement that I can't help but feel excited for the new day too. Everyone should greet the day with someone who is so happy to see them.

Then, all day long you talk to me. You point at things and ask me questions. You clap and run and never seem to tire of playing the piano and chasing Reggie. Until you do.

Then I take you to your room with a bottle and a book and we sit and sing and read and rock until your milk is gone and you are a bit tipsy. Then I turn you around and you look at me with a cuddly, drunk smile with milk dripping from your chin and you say "Mama" and gently pat my chest and lay your head down for a quick cuddle.

After your nap. We do it all again. We play and talk and laugh and tickle and sing and take everything out of every cupboard and every bucket just in time for Daddy to come home. Then you run to the sound of the key in the lock and clap your hands as Daddy walks through the door.

You grin as you eat your "Tasta" and you laugh as you splash in the bath and scribble on the walls of the tub. Your little mouth smiles through our family bedtime cuddle and it only seems to deepen as I lay you in your bed and you wiggle into your blankets.

Yes, happy. That must be what you're saying.