The cutest thing you do.

You are soooo two. Every single transition in your day requires a tantrum. Getting into your highchair, getting a new diaper, going into the house, leaving the house, watching someone else leave the house, waking up in the middle of the night....that one is my personal favorite. If you wake up in the middle of the night you don't roll over and go back to sleep. You get mad that you're awake and sleepy and you pitch a fit.

I give you choices. I let you know transitions are coming. I ignore your fits. I know this is a phase, I just really hope it's a short one because it tires us both out.

You are, of course, also impossibly cute. You love to play the "Hello" game, where we sit and say "Hi" and "Hello" back and forth. Throwing a sheet of paper and watching it swoop gives you hysterical giggles. The funniest thing, though, is your reaction when someone burps or farts. Do you wrinkle your nose and run? Nope. Your eyes light up and you draw in a big breathy "Ooooohhh!" , like it wasn't smelly gas but a rare,delicate blossom of rose scented wind.

Loving you so much,
Mom

The Sweetest Thing Ever

Other children learn to talk almost as a reflex. Words come tumbling our of their mouths like little building blocks that they stack in taller and taller towers as the days go by.

You've always preferred to knock towers over.

You babble just as much as the next kid, but the sounds aren't blocks that build ideas- they're marbles that roll out of your mouth and around the room. Lots of the tones and inflection that language uses, but none of the meaning.

Until lately. Now that you're two, you're starting to get the hang of talking. You've discovered that if you can make the right sound, the grownups will do what you want. It is so fun to hear you talk. Other children say things with an immediacy that implies their thought has just been made audible. You have to put effort into it, and the effect is that it seems you've cast a spell. You don't yell "No!"- you start to cry, then realize you should try the magic word. You stop crying, look up, form your mouth just so and say "Nnnoooo" in a quiet, slow, hopeful way. You've said the incantation and only have to wait for it to work.

The sweetest thing you say right now is "Hello". It is the spell that makes people light up with joy and laughter. Every time you say it there are cheers and "Yay"s, and people say "Hello!" right back. It makes me so glad that you share a room with us, because when I'm thinking I wish I wasn't awake I'll hear your "Hello" and smile.

It's such a relief to hear your lovely voice saying words,
Love,
Mom

Too much to post

I wish I wrote to you more often. I'm sure someday you'll wish I had too. I do write posts in my head, but getting them out and onto this blog takes time I don't often have.

I write posts about how cute you are. How perfect you are. How beautiful you are. I describe the cute things you do.

I write posts about how much I worry about you, not because I think you've got problems, but because the world is problematical.

I wrote a very heartfelt apology about bringing home a baby without giving you any warning. It's not that I didn't try- almost every day we'd pat my belly and tell you there was a baby in there. You were too young to understand. It was quite a shock to have her show up out of the blue, and I'm sorry to have surprised you like that.
Actually, you've handled it quite well. I think you think she's the Best Baby Doll Ever.

I write about the strange journey your body is on. It started out so small, it's no wonder you do things on your own schedule and in your own way. I'd be a liar if I said it didn't worry me. It worries me because I love you, and I want things to be easier for you than they sometimes are. It's frustrating for us all that you have so much trouble talking.

I write about how much I love you. Still haven't gotten that post right though. I'm waiting for them to invent words grand enough to describe how hard I love you. Maybe you'll be a mom someday, then you'll know how that post was supposed to go.

Love you,
Mom

Super Cute

Oh boy, have you been laying on the cute lately. You love to play coy, tucking in your chin and peering up at us while you bat your lashes. You laugh yourself silly when you can get someone to play the yes/no game with you- we nod "yes" while you shake your head "no". The stinky foot game will still do in a pinch- you hold up your foot, we sniff and say "Pew! Stinky feet". You also enjoy patting things. If you pat a table and I pat it too it can send you into hysterics.

You still won't talk to us. Your Poppy is quite ready for you to get on with it. You do say "Woof" occasionally. We suspect you may also be saying "Dog", but it's hard to tell. Whenever I take food out of the microwave you blow, but you won't say "hot". If you want what I'm eating you'll sidle up to me and grunt "Uh uh uh" in the sweetest grunt possible, but you won't say any words. You stretch out your arms but you won't say "up". You've quit saying "mmmahmmmmah" or "mmmmmmm".

You do sing. All day. No words, just precious tuneless songs. You love to dance too- you wave your arms and bounce whenever you hear music.

You're becoming quite the brave girl. You clearly enjoy climbing up on things- the coffee table, the couch, a trunk, the stairs- and it's only fun if you stand up when you manage to get yourself up on top. You've also decided the vacuum isn't the boss of you. When you were younger you'd cry at the mere sight of the thing, but now you like to go up and "GAH" it.

Oh, the "GAH"ing. When I fish something out of your mouth, you shout "GAH" and either shove or bite me. It's your favorite thing to do when you're feeling petulant. Sometimes you hunt me down to GAH me. I see the glint in your eye and I take your little hand and say "Gentle" and rub your hand on my cheek. Sometimes this works. Sometimes you glare at me. Other times you are just in a foul mood and there's no helping it. I warn you not to GAH me. You GAH me anyway. This is when I put you down and you cry. Then you GAH me from the floor.

Love you anyway, love you always,
Mom

Just for the record...

You took a step today all by yourself. You were holding onto your Poppy's knee, and then you wanted to go elsewhere, so you did. This is not to say that you walk wbout the house now. You do, however, take a step now and then, just for fun. Then you laugh and laugh....

I love watching you grow up!

Love,
Mom

Leaps and Bounds

Today you decided to do all kinds of things you've never done before. You decided to stack blocks. You decided to nest your stacking cups. You decided that rolling cars and balls to other people is fun. All in the space of a day.
And walking! Not that you can do it by yourself yet, but holding on to our hands and goose-stepping around the room is apparently high-larious. You giggle and giggle. If you have somebody to walk towards you laugh harder and walk faster. I can't communicate how cute you are.

Love you so much!
Mom

Happy Birthday!

In the space of a year you've grown from a tiny peanut to the dynamic baby who's trying to stand up all by herself. A year ago it almost made me cry to look at the little wrinkles on your elbows. You were so tiny! I wanted to fatten you up immediately- inject you with chubbs. Nowadays looking at you still makes me want to cry sometimes, but it's because I'm just so pleased with how much you've grown.

You've learned to crawl, to pull up, and to wave "Hi!". Sometimes you hold a blanket up and play peek-a-boo with it. You know who Poppy, Bubba and Doggie are, but you haven't deigned to say their names yet. You prefer to growl like a Monster baby. Rar. Rarrr! The only word you say is "Mmmmmm", which means everything that goes in a mouth. I'm not complaining, it's progress. You love, love!!, to try to stand up in the middle of the room without holding on to anything. The wobbly feeling you have as you try to find your balance makes you laugh and laugh.

This week you've decided that laying in my arms to drink your bottle is a pleasure. This is a change from recent weeks when drinking a bottle was Such A Chore, as there were a million more interesting things to do and explore. Apparently you've realized that drinking in my arms is a good way to recharge. Feel the love. Find your zen. Ahhhh.

You've got six teeth, which you use to try and bite anyone who crosses you. I took a piece of paper you were chewing out of your mouth. You cried and pulled my hand into your mouth and bit it. You were crying and shaking with the effort. Willful!

You've given us our share of worries this year, but you're a tough little git. I don't think you're half the delicate flower we sometimes fret over. I think many of your tears aren't as much about pain as they are anger.

Here's hoping your next year is every bit as fruitful as your first.
Love,
Mom