Delight.

Emery is brilliant at screaming. She leans her little head back and wails with the best of them. Some babies laugh; some babies grunt. My sweet baby daughter screams. And screams. And screams.
I imagine this is her genius way of being noticed. Her father has no problem getting my attention, especially when he smiles and the wrinkles around his eyes make me feel so much happiness I might split open. Her sister is precocious and adorably (not always, mind you) naughty, grabbing my eye with ease. But Emery, with her calm demeanor and low-maintenance personality, must find ways to be the focus of this family's notice. So she screams. And screams.

Ainsley is such a little person. After she woke up this morning I asked her if she would like some milk and she replied "I would like some water, actually." I broke a little inside. My baby girl is not so baby any more. She has opinions and creativity. She tells me stories and remembers funny instances from weeks ago. The years are short.

My two girlies. So very opposite to each other. Both equally delightful.