She is all red curls and round belly.
She loves baby dolls and monster trucks.
She does things, "all by self".
She could give a fuck what her hair looks like or if she's wearing pants.
She has a gap between her two front teeth.
She isn't afraid to speak her mind or to yell it.
She doesn't go anywhere without her blanket or her smile.
She listens to Bruce Springsteen in the car.
She can't get through the day without 'reading' books or 'singing' songs.
She goes down the stairs on her bum but jumps the last two.
She runs down the hall and splashes in the tub.
She begs for back scratches.
She's two years old now.
Before her, I thought I could never love my second as much as my first.
She proved me wrong.
Her arrival was staight out of Bollywood.