Perfect
Since I have been relegated to the vast emptiness of suburban New England, I rarely get to see my old friends and a good portion of my family. Many of my friends have only seen Molly once and some never at all, which is a travesty. Molly, like me, isn’t perfect, but she is amazing and I feel proud of my (and Lindy’s parenting) and I wish I could show everyone her multitude of cutenesses. Molly is a really little person; she talks in sentences, can count to ten (not just memorizing the numbers, but can actually count things), her vocabulary is beyond counting, she knows colors and songs and books and has begun to use her imaginations. She orchestrates vast pretend tea-parties and keep her tiny pretend turtle (named Maple) in her hands to pet and kiss. She knows the song “Fibber Island” is funny and can pick out the song “Middle of the Street” after two notes. She runs around and explores, although she is not a climber like her cousin Matthew and does seem to want to look in