Baby's a pistol.
Neither of my older kids have been full-blown fit-throwers.
They just aren't. I don't know why. Don't get me wrong--they pout and they'll fuss if something in particular doesn't go their way, but it's typically resolved quickly with a stern word from me. This means nothing except that my children just have two distinct personalities: The obedient firstborn son and the pleaser firstborn daughter.
And then ... Baby Lydia.
She's very, well, LOUD. She hollers when she's happy. She hollers when she's upset. And while Naomi was our spunky baby, she mellowed out as a toddler, but Lyds, well, hollers. Like I said, she goes into everything full-force (and without much grace, like ME) and that includes her volume level. Her speaking voice is sweet and raspy and low, but man, you get that girl happy and the hollering commences. She loves just as intensely as she gets upset. Wild and free, is our Liddy B.
Sugar and spice. Our Liddy.
My musings for this rainy Thursday.
Have a lovely day!