Emory is now three. I swear she seems so grown-y since she reluctantly gave up her paci (for bubble gum) just a few days ago. And she rides her new bike with no fear. Where did my baby go? She copies her five year old brother, covers her mouth when she giggles, and savors all things sugary. I love her so much my heart could burst. If I could freeze time I would just to remember her tiny painted toenails and long messy hair and the smell of her favorite blanket.
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