Hello, hello, baby, you called? I can't hear a thing...

Dear India,

You are now 13 months old, and you are hilarious, relentless, exhausting, and delightful.

Seriously, you have an agenda, all the time. You totter quickly through the kitchen on your way to the background to destroy Jordan's train tracks. You confidently tippie-toe your way into the bathroom to stick your hand in the toilet.

You know what you want, even if you don't know how to say it. You point imperiously at things, and then shriek if we don't get them to you fast enough.

You can now say Mama, Daddy, Nana, buh-bye, ball (bah! BAH!) and Aiyya, which I'm pretty sure is Jordan. 

You absolutely love to go out on walks, and you'll march over, pick up your hat, and bring it over, trying to put it in. Hat! Walk! NOW! If we don't respond fast enough you're all, "HAT! IMBECILES! THIS IS MY HAT! CHOP CHOP!"

As soon as you learn to talk and snap your fingers, I'm sure you're going to be all, "Blueberries, stat!" Snap, snap!

Jordan has taken to putting his toys up on the counters, ostensibly so you won't choke on them. We all know that you're not about to choke on a garbage truck. But we also know that your forays into everything that is his drive him up the wall.

Last week, for the first time, you grabbed a toy from him and then very stubbornly would not let go. To his credit, he didn't clock you. He got upset and said, "Mommy! India isn't sharing!" And boy-howdy, you WEREN'T.

For the most part, though, the two of you have a great time together.  Jordan loves it when we pick you up from day care, and he delights in pushing your stroller. This does mean that you very narrowly avoid crashing into trees and cars and your stroller gets stuck against walls and the curb. But you're both closely supervised enough that nothing huge happens.

Yesterday we all went on a traditionally Daddy-Jordan adventure to the marina. It was sprinkling and you didn't care. You sat down on a wet dock, and you didn't care. Your butt and your feet were soggy, and life was grand.

This makes me suspect that you are your father's daughter and I am not going to wind up with a shopping buddy after all. Unless Jordan discovers a fondness for it, which seems unlikely.

Anyway, the marina. The river. The airport. You were astounded, pointing and squealing. Water! Boats! Ducks! Planes! Whoa! What is all this? Awesome! We walked to the end of a dock, watching the boats, and you did your very best to wriggle out of you father's arms and leap into the water.

You're a menace. I'm not kidding.

I realized what city kids we are raising when we first saw the ducks yesterday, and Daddy said, "Ducks!"

And Jordan said, "And garbage cans!"

Love you love you love you,

Mama