Sweetheart Baby

Remember that line I wrote yesterday about Julia being the sweetest, smartest baby in the entire universe? Want proof? This morning she needed a diaper change, but wasn't quite ready to acquiesce, so I stacked the diaper, box of wipes, and a folded-up changing cloth on the coffee table and went back to the kitchen, giving her a few more minutes of playtime before pressing the issue. After a few moments, Julia came running over to me at breakneck speed, chubby little legs a blur, arms flying, big grin on her face, yelling, "Good JOB! Good JOB!" She then led me back to the living room and pointed at the floor, where she'd set the diaper and the wipes box, and, in the best rumpled fashion that she could, laid out the changing cloth on the carpet. You should have seen her face. She couldn't have been more proud of herself and eager to show Mama what she'd done if she'd just scaled Mount Everest. What a little "hweet-heart," as Julia would call herself.