Alamae James, you have a happy soul, one that bursts forth with so much goodness, it infects those around you. You are not the cuddliest of babies, preferring to look out on the big, bright world rather than cozy into the chests of the people who love you most. But you offer up your smiles and your babbles, assuring us all of your contentedness.
I think you are smart, as most mothers credit their children with being. I also think that one day your happiness might confuse other smart types who mistakingly believe that intelligence breeds a degree of misery. But you will know your soul and your mind, both of which I believe to be extraordinary. You will know that joy can live alongside understanding. You will make this world a better place. You already have.
This month you met your best friend and became a cousin in one fell swoop. You have already started to borrow her toys, which you have shown great interest in, even if you have yet to master the ability to grasp them the way you desire.
Yesterday you reveled in the sweetness of cherries served to you in mesh bags, sucking furiously at their goodness, occasionally squealing with delight. I thought of all the wonderful things this world has to offer you, and all the delight you will find in experiencing them each in turn.