Penny just turned two. I love my little Pen. She has perfectly square little teeth, and her smiles cause her eyes to squint nearly shut (just like my brother Rob's eyes when he smiles). Time goes so quickly and she and Jesse were born so close, that I keep getting confused in my mind and having trouble remembering if something involving a baby was just last week with Jesse, or a year and a half ago with Penny. All she wants to do lately is catch things. The kids catch bugs, but she wants to catch birds, horses, cows and even airplanes. "I wanna catch it, Mom!" She'll say so hopefully. Today I told her the cow she wanted to catch was maybe too big to catch. She then simply wanted to "hold it." And only reluctantly agreed that maybe petting it would suffice. There is something about this stage that makes me look at her more than any of my other kids and think, "Who are you? You aren't my little baby anymore, and you aren't yet one of the big kids that I know so well. Yet here you are. Your own little person with your own story and life to live, and how is it that you are mine when I can see so clearly that you are someone all your own?"