The Yalta Port, with so much to see, has miraculously offered up adequate entertainment for a girl who gets more rambunctious every day.  She runs.  She giggles.  She dances.  She eats.  She runs again.

The other day we ran into a translator we had met in Kiev.  He said, “Hey, I know you.”  He was with his family on a short vacation to Yalta.  He said, “Oh, I see you got a boy.  Congratulations.”  We laughed and said, “No, she’s a girl.”  Later, we thought it was funny how she’s been wearing that magenta jump suit every day, and she’s got that short hair, so she must look like a boy, if you don’t know any better.  I have little flower clips to put in her hair, but first, I have to make sure she’s not looking (so she doesn’t immediately pull them out), and secondly, her hair is so fine that they slide out anyway.

Today she’s wearing a pink butterfly shirt underneath all those layers, so we take off her jacket, and now she looks a little like a girl.

We walk along the main boardwalk again.  Another cruise ship has come in the night, so there are plenty of people to see.  When we get to the painted wooden pirate that guards the entrance to the restaurant she knows, she points and starts to walk inside.  It’s amazing that with that mile stretch of walking, she recognizes this place every time.

This time we order her a sliced apple, and again, you’d think she was in heaven.  She hums.  She sings.  She’s happy to be eating that apple.  Really, she is so tickled over such a simple thing.  That is the way it should be with us–always.  Remembering to savor every little thing that is life.

When Liliana’s back in the stroller, she stands up on the plastic strap right above the wheels so she can hold her arms out to catch the breeze.  We call it her Titanic pose (from the movie).  She hops up and down in the stroller, as though she can make it go faster, zigzag crazier.

She looks up at Dan and says, “Ticka, ticka, ticka,” so Dan tickles her under her chin (for an explanation of “ticka, ticka, ticka, see the September 28 post) and goes into peals of laughter.  How can someone be this happy?  She’s blossoming into this wondrous, curious thing, and we can only stand back in amazement.  We’ve had nothing to do with this part of our child.  This is her–the inner her–that’s coming out, with just a little watering of love.