ibelieveinthelittletreetopper:

scones-and-texting-and-murder:

A time stamp to A Little Company for @ibelieveinthelittletreetopper in honor of Tam’s first birthday. With art by the ever-amazing @cluelessakemi

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At almost a year old Ellie has become so much her own person. She has a distinct little personality, with dependable likes and dislikes. She’s mastered the trick of dropping food from the high chair tray whenever old Sadie comes to visit, she can pull all the plastic containers out of the one un-babyproofed kitchen cabinet in a flash, and she has an endless love of being tossed in the air by Uncle Sam. She’s scared of the loud sound the garbage truck makes on Wednesday mornings, she hates staying still while they buckle her into the carseat, and she continues to rebel against the oppressive nature of socks.

For the most part she’s happy and healthy and Dean and Cas are endlessly entertained by her. (Except for the time she crawled over to one particular spot near the front window and spent fifteen minutes laughing at absolutely nothing. That night they’d put her to bed then run an entire battery of tests looking for evidence of anything supernatural. When they’d reported that to Jody, she’d spent fifteen minutes laughing herself.)

Despite her time in the hospital, her development has been nothing less than stellar. Dean tries not to brag too often, but honestly, it’s obvious that she’s a rather advanced baby.

The only thing she hasn’t done yet is walk.

Sure, walking by a year is just a rough guideline and it’s not like he’d be disappointed if it took longer, but seeing as she was early to teethe, roll, and crawl it just makes sense that she’d be an early walker too. Despite his best efforts, as the days tick down to her first birthday, she’s content merely to cruise around with a solid grip on the nearest piece of furniture.

When Dean tries supporting her under the armpits, she’ll happily march her knees up and down but as soon as he tries letting go, she holds her legs up in the air leaving him to hang on or essentially drop her. When he tries holding her hands and walking with her, she’ll take a few mincing steps before going boneless and collapsing to the floor.

“She’s not quite ready,” he tells Cas, who shrugs, unconcerned.

“She’ll be ready when she’s ready.”

Well, that’s the kind of nonsense platitude that Dean has no use for so he spends some time on Amazon reading reviews for push toys to determine which one might push her a little closer to readiness.

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IM GONNA CRY!!!