Mornings at the Brady's

LiLi is wearing her fuzzy elephant pajamas. The ones where, before I put them on her, and she's sitting on her changing table in only her diaper, I softly rub on her back and she giggles like it's Christmas and arches her back. This morning she's found a wrist rattle, and is having the time of her life with it. Wrist rattle and cheerios. Life can't get any better. She shakes it happily in her high chair. And then brings it so close to her face that she's almost crossed-eyed.

"Can I see it??" I ask as I tenatively pull it away. Then I beat it like a tamborine, and start singing a song for LiLi. Yellow Submarine by the Beatles. All one-and-a-half year olds should should know the Beatles. LiLi apparently loves them, because she's swaying in her chair as I sing the song, and grinning, showing all four of her bottom teeth. I finish the song and hand the make-shift tanborine to her. She madly beats it and sings as well. The girl is a natural, and I instantly like her version of the song better than mine. And quite possibly the Beatles'. Then she picks up her sippy cup full of smoothie as well as a Cheerio and tries to eat and drink at the same time. "I don't think it works that way, but if you can manage it, more power to you!"I laugh. My daughter: singer, tamborine player, and natural multitasker. She's my little sunshine.

Happy morning. Happy Fall.