Nine

Oh Natalie, sweet Natalie. You're good stuff, baby girl.

You cruise
you crawl with speed
you love an open dishwasher
you squirm with delight when you see your dad, your brother or even anticipate that you might see one of them.
you love feeding Millie from the table (that's a no-no, yet you do it then look at me and smile)
you have serious separation anxiety
you love Cheerios and puffs
you grunt until you get what you want
you babble now - all of a sudden - and I'm hearing a lot of dada, ada, baba, etc. but nothing that sounds like mama. Just like your brother.
you do not like avocados but I will not stop trying
you love bath and the anticipation of getting a bath
your laugh is a fantastic sound
you have survived your first visible injury, courtesy of your brother removing your hands from the table while pulling up
you still have only four teeth
you are a chunk
you are too tall for your 6-9 month sleepers
you refuse to hold your own bottle
you think sippy cups are for hitting the tray and not much else
you are not the best sleeper in the world
we love you anyway.