Every time I can't think the girls can't get any more adorable,
they do. Starting when they were around seven or eight months old, I
think I started saying, "this is it. This is the best age ever. They
can't possibly get any cuter than this." And then, by golly, they did.
They did even funnier more engaging things. They said even cuter stuff.
There was, admittedly, a brief period between eighteen and twenty-four
months, when I was just as likely to say "It can't possibly get any
harder than this..." But the past few months, things have definitely
been on the upswing again.
And seriously,
two-and-a-half -- today, exactly! -- has got to be the cutest possible
age. It's gotta all be downhill after here, right? The girls still have
a bit of that baby pudge and innocence. They still have the
un-self-consciously gleeful giggles of toddlers, and take pleasure in
simple things -- running around in circles and falling down on the
grass, putting stickers on themselves, digging in the dirt. They like
to cuddle. But they're also curious and aware of what's going on around
them (I'm constantly surprised by how much they remember and pick up
on.) They "read" books by themselves. And they talk -- Lord, how they
talk. They crack us up on an almost daily basis with the stuff that
comes out of their mouths. (Me: Clio, what is your stuffed doggie
named? Clio: Cpthtoth. Me: What? Cpthoth? Clio: Yeah, Gaby Gaby
Cpthoth.)
Pics after the jump...
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