Wellbread Mom: It's Ivy's Turn...Finally.

I had the best of intentions to make a list of the things Ivy is doing right now, just like I did for Livvie. Then I thought I didn't want to do them one day apart, even though their birthdays are one day apart. Then we got busy with a million orders, packing for Utah, Christmas, and whatnot. Now it's WEEKS later. Now I'm going to do it.

Here are some memories and some current events.

Little "I:"

You are hilarious.

You have had the most amazing and infectious belly laugh since you were only a few months old. When I was working for Michelle and had to breastfeed you while wearing a bodice, you laughed like a maniac the whole time because you thought it was funny.

I took you to the bathroom at the grocery store a few days ago, and the dryer was one of the ones that is so strong it makes a divot in the skin on your hands where it is blowing. You kept putting your face under the airflow and laughing maniacally. Toby was in line to pay for our food and said that everyone in the store could hear you. They were all smiling.

You are very maternal, but in odd ways. You love to play with babies, but not dolls. Your babies are frogs, dinosaurs, and lizards. You once attempted to breastfeed a toad.

You love animals. You've begged us for several months for a pet frog, snake or turtle. I think you'd be disappointed to find that you couldn't carry any of these creatures around in your pocket all day every day. When we have water in the tiny pond at the front of our house, you'll spend all day catching and releasing tadpoles.

You have crazy hair. It is light brown and fine and it is very susceptible to static electricity. We are only now letting it grow longer because it would get bigger, but not longer. It was Einstein hair. Sometimes we brush your hair, sometimes we don't. It all looks the same in ten minutes anyway. I feel like it's a visual reminder of who you are. There was a Far Side cartoon about ways nature says "Do Not Touch." It's like that.

You are unique. Very unique. In our family, the boys look very similar, but with different coloring. Mag and Liv look very similar, and Cora looks just like they did. You...don't look like anyone else. You've got my hair and eye color, but in a pointy little elfin face. We know you're from the same batch, but you're just Ivy. We can't pin down who you look like.

You are majorly wiggly. You can move your skinny little body in ways that seem impossible. Usually these ways involve being upside-down with your panties showing. We mark every day by the amount of time it takes before we see Ivy's upside-down bum in the air. (That sounds creepy, but it's not. We are working on this before she goes to school.)

You are not shy at all. Once in the checkout line at the store, you looked at the cashier and chirped "Hi, my name is Ivy, and I'm not a bit afraid of you!" Even compared to Livvie, you are gregarious. One of your great-uncles asked to hold you in Utah, probably expecting you to decline like our other kids would have. Instead, you rocketed into his arms, chatted him up, and unzipped his jacket. The whole while, he was juggling you like you were a little monkey and he had food hidden on him somewhere.

I can't remember if we invented the term "afflictionate" for you. You are. You used to spend hours asking Toby a question, then pinching his lips shut so he couldn't answer you. You don't snuggle, you waller. You seem to always be pushing the boundary of the acceptable. Is that annoying? What about that? Is it annoying now?

You like to mess with people. Loch, especially. When we took you for kindergarten screening and they asked you to name the color of different objects, you said: "I can't say yellow." You also told them your last name was Doodle. That's probably our fault, since we call you "Ivy Doodle" all the time. Michelle's kids call you "Even Ivy." Your other nicknames are Ivysaurus Rex, Iveline, Ivy Nadel, and Ivy B. Also, sometimes, "The Evil I."