I looked at my little girl today as she staggered around the dining room on her own two feet, walking more than crawling these days, giggling to herself as she munched her cereal and told herself interesting stories, and I realized:
She's not a baby anymore. Somewhere, somehow, she turned into a toddler. One of those fascinating little people with personalities, who grow and develop and communicate and show you that yes, they are real individuals, not just faceless infants.
I've never been a big baby fan. Sure, they're cute and sweet, and I love it when my babies snuggle into me, but for the most part, I just don't get excited over babies. Toddlers and children, though ... those are delightful. I have been counting down the days until my daughter can start asking me those millions of "why" questions. "Why is the sky blue?" "Why are dogs not cats?" Why did God make me me?"
My little one isn't quite to that point yet--her language is still only half-comprehensible--but she is a step closer. One staggering, uncertain, toddler-step closer.
And I couldn't be more excited.
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