two.

Twenty-four months (and a few days as of this post) cute. And cuter by the moment.

Poosie-pants, as she is often known around here, is currently napping happily in her crib.  She has not quite recovered from her birthday celebrations which included a week's worth of beach days, time at the park, special one-on-one time with her mama, new dresses, shopping for a new ball, lunch at her favorite island haunt with her sweet friends, playtime with her Dadoo and big sister, a trip to the bookstore, "skebbie", her favorite movie ("woof-woof"), a boat ride with those same friends, candles, a crown, cake and a pile of presents.

In the words of her big sister, 'May we present,  ....... Isla!'

an animal lover

Though not necessarily animal-loved in return.

Isla has always been fascinated by animals.  And like most toddlers, she loves to look at picture books whose pages are filled with fuzzy, furry creatures.  She's a very good animal-caller and we-the-parents are so proud to say she can tell you what a fish, bear, lion, cat, dog, fox, bee, bird, mouse, rooster, chicken, baby-chick, duck, horse, elephant, turtle, giraffe, monkey, tiger, cow, sheep, pig, bunny, frog, zebra, squirrel and koala say.

She's loved to watch her pet cat Rèmy since she was born, but now, as she finds surety on her small feet, she loves to follow him, chase him, corral him and pet him - very gently and sweetly - anytime she is able to catch and terrorize persuade him to join her for some play.  Most of the time, Rèmy complies, and so the bitty-bun is able to get her fill of furry fun.

In addition to her love for Rèmy, Isla also find great happiness in seeking out and waving to 'woof-woofs'. She spots them from her stroller during her morning ride, from her car-seat as she rides along to our favorite store, from her seat at restaurants, from her perch on the playground swing, and each time she shouts with joy, "WOOF-WOOF!  WOOF-WOOF!".  Her chant is repeated over and over and over until someone near her acknowledges the presence of the pup.

During a recent visit to North Carolina, bun-baby had the opportunity to spend some quality time up close and personal with her grandparents' Westie.  Chloe the dog was a fascinating subject for Isla, and yet Chloe did not find Isla equally so.  Isla followed the dog around, giggling with glee, trying to get in a pet, laughing and chasing when Chloe tried to escape (on her own tiny legs) from the tiny-legged girl who kept sneaking up on her.  In the end, it was a bad situation for everyone, as Chloe, annoyed and bite-y was retired to the sun porch.  The dog, used to a pampered life of freedom, spent the remainder our visit quarantined.  On the other side of the glass, Isla lamented the loss of her fluffy pal, "oh-NO, woof-woof".

Now, daily, at mealtimes and bedtimes, Isla adds her own line to the family prayers ...
God bless Averie and Isla and all our friends and family . . .
And woof-woof.

tall as a perfect hand is high

Yup. You knew it was coming. But it's true. Isla is twenty-nine inches tall (link is here if you don't feel like working that one out yourself. It is Friday, after all). Twenty-nine is a lot of things, but the best of them is currently in her crib*, quietly sleeping off last night's three hour jam session.

Our girl le deuxième has been off her game just a bit over these last days, but it is to be expected after her last check-up. Thirteen months and ten days after she was born, Isla had her first and only 1-year-well-visit. It was an informative visit for the we-the-parents and an unhappy one for the poor girl who once again endured five needles in the short span of two minutes. She really, really screamed this time. Really.**

Despite the horror of those long needles (which appear to be long enough to actually go through her tiny legs), our sweet one year old is doing great, standing tall and weighing a slight nineteen pounds. Heavy enough to wear your arm out after a short hike but not quite heavy enough to flip that car seat around. ***

The pediatrician did say she is the cutest one year old Isla in the entire state of Georgia, though, and that's enough for us. Ok, she didn't really say that, but we-the-parents are certain she was thinking it. Because we sure are.

Cute: 189 ounces fuller (that's 11.7 pounds) and 9 inches higher than her debut.

Isla eating her first french fry. It came from Five Guys Burgers and she thought it (and all those she tasted after), was delicious.
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*crib ... get it?

**Random thoughts: How do they honestly expect a child to be calm when they are jamming so many sharp things, filled with burning liquid no less, into their little bodies? And it seems remiss not to somehow protest the sheer length of those things. The needles could honestly go straight through a baby's leg. Isn't some agency supervising this kind of thing? What do we pay our government for anyway?

***Of course we aren't dreaming of relieving this tiny girl from the terrible plight of facing backwards when everyone else in the car is seeing life from the other direction. Because, really, what kind of parents would we be if we were thinking of doing that. We wouldn't even ponder it for a moment, the recommendation, I mean, since it's not law or anything. We wouldn't. And that is totally because we are such great parents who never, ever, ever mind the blood-curdling screams coming from the back seat when we're driving somewhere tedious after a year of no sleep.

deserving of a better blogger

She really is. Because she is way more interesting than the lack of updates on her blog relates. In fact, she could be *the* most interesting one-year-old Isla Mireille ever. Ever.

She is nearly a walker. Although she still chooses crawling - or 'crab-walking' depending on the surface - as her fastest means of ambulation, she can and does walk fairly well. We-the-family (and especially her big sis) love to applaud her short strolls from couch to table or ottoman to sliding glass doors or bed to dresser or toy to sister. And we-the-family are all of us truly amazed at how she manages to find her balance, even amid a near fall. It is incredible to us how she can stay herself, locate the center and then propel her tiny frame onward toward her current goal. The sweetest part of this entire process is the look of joy on her face, the smile of 'I did it' in her tiny eyes. She is so amazed and proud. So are her onlookers.

Isla continues her streak of independence by demanding to feed herself. She does not, repeat does not like to be fed. She wants pieces she can pick up with her fingers. She wants to hold her own cup. She wants to use the spoon on her own. She does not want any food that prevents her from doing it all by herself. Conversely, she does want almost all foods that allow this self-feeding style, though bananas are recently not one of those foods. This we find strange, since it is one of the few 'baby' foods she will still consume.

Her spoken vocabulary is growing, but it is easy to see that she understands far more than she can say. "Isla, sit down" is a constant phrase during the day - one that follows the two-footer around from chair to chair, box to box, shelf to shelf. And she knows what it means, because she always stops her climb, bends her legs and turns her head to see if the command giver is actually watching. "No!", also heard with regularity, brings her to tears. "Isla, come here" is the phrase that surprises Mama the most, because the strong-willed girl actually does it. She will also "dance" on command (or at the sound of any music she likes) and most of the time, we-the-fam can get her to clap as well with an encouraging, "Good job, Isla!" or a "Yay!"

The bitty babe only has two teeth. Still. Two small, white pearls neatly lining her bottom gums. We await the arrival of more, but alas, so far there are no signs of comrades.

She just turned one. And here she is, after lunch on her birthday, playing with her sister's hairbrush in her car seat. Cutie-pants.