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The way she is easily frustrated and happy putting her shoes on.

The way she held a small finger up to her lips and tries at ‘Shhh,’ copying my earlier instruction as we looked for deer on a walk.

The way she loves to spot airplanes in the sky.

The way she stood on tiptoes pulling everything out of a top drawer.

The way she proudly walks backward 5 feet and then wants to run through a cloud of bubbles on the front porch.

The way she laid her head on my shoulder as we stood outside looking at the moon.

The way she has figured out how to sit criss-cross-applesauce.

The way she loves to look at the family yearbook (and never fails to laugh at the photo of John throwing her up in the air in the ocean).

The way she wanted another piece of a pizza 30 minutes after dinner was over.

The way she grins so wide when smiling at me.

The way she looks concentrating on adding single blocks to the tower we were building.

The way she belly-giggles right before I place her in the crib.

The way she meanders around, unhurried, as we walk, pointing at ant hills and picking up pinecones.

The way she buried her face into my neck for 5+ minutes after spilling water on both of us, embarrassed and cold.