Well, little Liliana surprises us every day–her facial expressions, her all-out laughter, her memory of things.

My life has slowed down.  That’s a good thing.  She wants to learn kinesthetically, and this, of course, makes any chore drag out to infinity.  After the umpteenth time of lifting her on top of the kitchen island where I do my meal preparations–chopping veggies and fruit, mixing ingredients in a bowl, and kneading bread–I decided there was a better way.

Introducing…tada!…the Learning Tower.

A fantastic find.  We’ve made cookies and play dough, scrambled eggs and mashed potatoes.  She’s right there with me, and there’s no danger of her falling.  She thinks she rules the world, and it’s a hoot to watch her.  I name everything and tell her what to do next.  She watches quietly and patiently until it’s her turn, then she does the best she can.  It means sweeping and cleaning the floors afterwards, but it’s worth every bit of cleanup.

I feel sad for her biological mother, missing all this amazing stuff.

Yesterday, we went to get her immunizations done.  She was an angel, although the look of betrayal on her face during her shots made me feel horrible.  Then after all the blood tests and x-rays, we visited Papa at work.  She called to him down the hospital corridors, “Papa, Papa,” and I had to tell her to use her indoor voice.  When she saw him for the first time, she fairly leapt out of the stroller, raising her hands to be held.  When he picked her up, she giggled and snuggled into his chest.  I know it made his day.  It made mine.

Then we all went to lunch.

A wonderful, exhausting day.  So many incremental changes that add up to so much, considering we arrived home only two weeks ago!