One day she will grow up. And I will want to remember the pitter patter of her little feet, the whoosh of her doing her "tummy slide" down the stairs. Her tiny voice firmly proclaiming that she is Tinkerbelle. Her arms wrapping tightly around my neck to tell me a secret (usually that she loves me), the way her soft little hands pat my arm or face while she says "my mommy."
But there is no way to truly capture that. To bottle up her almost two and a half year old self. Because tomorrow she will have already changed some.
So I guess a picture will have to do.