Terribly Adorably Two

To my Dear Little Daughter:

This week you turned two years old.

Just two short years ago, we brought you home after spending 5 days in the hospital. It took two days to convince you that being born might be a good thing, then it took three days for the hospital to decide that your bilirubin level was low enough to let you go home (and still we had to wrap you in a “bili-blanket” and get your blood tested for another week).

You were a typical baby. Typical for our family, anyway. You had sleep issues and you did a fair amount of crying. As you grew, you still had sleep issues and did a fair amount of crying - although your crying turned more deliberate. We could see from the beginning that you had a strong, stubborn, feisty personality.

Your verbal skills progressed at an amazing - and somewhat alarming! - rate. Unfortunately, your motor skills did not follow suit. While sitting and scooching along on your bottom worked well for you, the rest of us thought crawling and walking might also be helpful for you. We contacted Early Intervention Services and arranged for a physical therapist to visit twice a month. Louise was a wonderful therapist and you adored her.

Finally, at the ripe old age of 21 months, you were walking! And now, of course, you are rarely still for more than 2 minutes at a time. I remember cuddling with your brother on the couch and watching 30- to 60-minute videos when he was two years old. Not you. SOMETIMES Blues Clues or the Backyardigans will keep you interested for 5 or 10 minutes. But cuddling is reserved for bedtime. I might get a hug and kiss during the day, but then you’re off!

You can say your alphabet, but when you get to the end you sing “W, X, Wine and Z.” This makes me laugh every time. You know your colors and shapes and can count to 14. You say “fuck” and know how to use it appropriately. You just moved into your big girl bed and have adjusted nicely. After we read books at night you say to me, “Go to sleep on Mommy’s legs. Close your eyes.” At this point, I am expected to close my eyes while you wiggle around and lay your head against my pelvic bone. We cuddle for a few minutes, then I leave you to your slumber. Then there are some times when I just stay and curl up against you, listening to you breathe.

You love music and you love to sing. Itsy Bitsy Spider, Ring Around the Rosie, Row Row Row Your Boat, the entire soundtrack to High School Musical, most of Laurie Berkner’s songs, and several others from various TV shows.

You enjoy the cleaning game. This involves a small wet sponge which you wipe along the wall or floor for a minute, then squeeze as hard as you can (while making a growling noise…?) to make the water drip out of the sponge and onto the floor. Art is another favorite pastime. But you must be monitored vigilantly since you take every opportunity to draw on the floor, walls, furniture and yourself.

You throw your food on the floor at EVERY meal. You take spoonfuls of soup and dump them on the table on purpose. After dinner, you love to go outside with Daddy to feed the fish in our pond and take a hike down our road.

You’ve learned well from your brother. Why just yesterday you turned to me and yelled, “I don’t like this dinner! It’s disgusting!” Most days you seem like a 7 year old trapped in a 2 year old’s body.

At your birthday party, you excitedly proclaimed to everyone that “Happy Birthday C’s coming up!” You adore the Happy Birthday song and when we all sang it to you, the look on your face was a combination of shock, thrill, awe, and appreciation.

Happy Birthday my sweet girl. Mommy loves you so much.