Addy laughs.

Addy laughed for the first time when she was about three and a half months old. I was waiting for it and waiting for it--this was a milestone I'd thought about from the beginning, even way back during the pregnancy. (I did not, however, fantasize about my soon-to-be adorable baby rolling over.)

The first time we got a chuckle out of her was around five in the afternoon. I'd spent most of the afternoon trying to make her laugh, because she'd been getting so close--squealing, smiling until her mouth couldn't get any wider. And then Jason walked in the door from work, looked right at her and said, "Hi, baby!" And she finally did it. Just a "ha! ha!" And I called and texted everyone I knew to tell them about it.

Since then she chuckles at least every waking hour. It's the best part of parenting so far, I think, making her laugh.

Jason's mom watched her for four days while we were on our honeymoon, and I heard all sorts of amazing stories about laughing fits--when her grandma and great grandma were scooping her poop out of the bathtub, for example. I didn't know what she considered a "laughing fit." Today I found out.

Our friends Jaclyn and Joel came over to swim with their 7-month-old Ella. Jason made us tuna salad sandwiches and we were standing in the den eating, with Adelyn sitting on my lap. Louie and Sampson were both on their hind legs, begging for a taste. We were all laughing at their antics when suddenly I heard what I thought was a weird cry, but I looked down at her face and she was laughing hysterically. She cracked up for a good three minutes while Louie and Sampson ran in circles begging for some tuna salad.

One of my old professors told me that she still remembers the first time her son laughed--it was at a blue blanket, that they'd whipped over him. She said she remembers thinking it was the most beautiful sound, her child laughing at something the rest of us wouldn't know how to find funny. A blue blanket.

For Addy it was her dogs. Begging for tuna salad.