Little feet, little hands, little baby

My dearest Emily, The past few months have brought so much change for you. Watching you develop is amazing! Just a little while ago you could only express yourself with chubby smiles, clumsy hand gestures, and mournful wailing. But now, now you have all of this character pouring out of you. Each new event with you is an adventure and doing the same old stuff again just leads to new discoveries. We ended October with a trip to the zoo in Houston. It was here that I truly realized your future as a debutant. After grabbing our attention with indignant shrieks about our inability to properly identify the jungle cats you very calmly informed us all that it was neither a lion nor a leopard but a "key cat." You did this with a disdainful haughtiness unsurpassed even by Queen Mary when inviting her subjects to eat cake. I think my favorite part of November was discovering how polite you are becoming. We can prompt you into a "please" and almost all of your "thank yous" come of your own volition. I love the way they burst out of you as you excitedly receive whatever it is you have asked for. Grandma and Granddad worked so hard with you on table manners and have been successful in getting you to request that you be "es-cuesed" from the table upon meal completion. It is really quite cute. The most heartwarming instances of your decorum occurred over the Thanksgiving weekend. I spent Friday night after you went to bed making a wreath for our front door. You helped pick out the materials so it was a very pink holiday decoration. Upon waking you Saturday and showing you my creation you clapped a hand on either side of your face and exclaimed "iss so pwetty!" I got a response of equal rapture when I changed into my skirt and top for Granddad the Great's birthday/Thanksgiving Lunch Extravaganza. I truly felt pretty. I have to say, though, that your taste in music is a little questionable. I never would have imagined that at the tender age of two, one could memorize the lyrics to "Oops I did it Again." I have no problem with Britney Spears. I am, in fact, quite the fan. However, must we really listen to it over and over again for the duration of every car ride at the risk plaintive shrieks and tears for withholding this musical treasure? I really think not. Plus, it is just disturbing that you look at me with those big blue eyes and liltingly proclaim "I not dat inncent."