And as we left, her Dad held one hand and I held the other, as she walked out the gate to our car. She teeters and wobbles, somewhat resembling that classic scene of a little deer just getting its feet underneath it. But she walked.
We say, "where are your hands." She knows. She claps them.
We say, "stand like a big girl." She does. She takes her hands off the table and grins with pride.
We say, "where is the light." She points. She points to a lot of things these days.
We say, "say duck." She comes very close. And yes, we've been warned about that one.
Her level of understanding is growing by leaps and bounds.
Although, one thing I'm not so sure she understands yet is how much she has changed my life. There will be time for that.
What an honor it has been to become a mother... to be her mother.
In just a few days, we'll mark one year of Grace on this earth.
One year of more joy than I could ever imagine.
Grace. Defined as "seemingly effortless beauty or charm" or a "Gift from God." She is all of those things and more.
