Posted by: Elizabeth | May 22, 2011

Thoughts on a Two-Year-Old

Dear SweetPea,

The Beginning of Something Beautiful

It’s been two years now since I first saw all 11 pounds of your chubby little self, and I have grown more and more in love with you every day.  Part of me cannot believe that two years has already passed since you came into our lives, and the other part of me can hardly remember a time when you weren’t a part of our family.

You are growing up so fast (3 feet tall all of a sudden!), and your little personality is shining through more and more each day.  You’re quite a talker now, with new words coming out of the blue all the time, and gibberish still taking up the rest of our silence.  The words we can’t understand sound like some combination of Yiddish and Japanese.  I’ll be interested to see which languages appeal to you when you’re older.  I love to hear you count to ten, especially when you hit “seben” with such enthusiasm.  You’ve just transitioned from saying, “Mama hold” to “Hold you” when you want to be held, and it melts my heart every time.  Even though my arms get tired (you are not exactly petite), I can’t pass up a chance to be held by you.  You know your little friends’ names and say them well, even though you rarely say your own (and when you do, every syllable starts with a y).

You are sassy.  You stomp your foot at me when you want something specific, and you say “no” with a little smirk, as if you’re just waiting to see how your dad and I will respond.  When you’re doing something you know you’re not supposed to, you look at us sideways from those puppy-dog eyes, as if you know we’ll eventually cave in and give you what you want.  [Newsflash: we’re the parents, and we get to make the rules!]  You are stubborn, and I find myself needing increasing patience with you as you test new waters.

You are cautious.  You do not warm up easily to new people, and while you might eventually relax in a crowded room, you would prefer that unfamiliar people don’t talk to you or touch you, even if we are close by.  You’re still very careful when going up and down stairs, and you’re not much of a climber (unless you’re chasing your cousin, Reagan, and then you think you can do everything she can).  You love running, though, and are getting more coordinated all the time.  I love watching you try things at The Little Gym – and I especially love when you try something new and then exclaim, “I did it!”  Talk about making a mama’s heart proud.

You are beautiful.  Your hair is totally out of control, but it’s getting blonder and longer all the time, and the little curls are still the most charming thing I’ve ever seen.  Your eyes are clear and gorgeous blue, big enough to show any depth of emotion.  Your skin is perfect, like a porcelain doll (though you already have a tiny tinge of a farmer’s tan).  Your smile warms my heart like nothing else could.  You still have a profound “toddler belly,” and I hope you keep it for a long long time.  There’s no better place to blow zerberts than on a toddler belly, and yours is perfect.

You are smart.  You can count to ten and name all your colors and many shapes.  You know tons of animals and what sounds they make, even random ones.  You make connections between things in words and pictures, in books and in real life, that surprise and amaze us all the time.  You remember things.  You love to read and write/draw.  Your favorite letters are c and o, and you currently “write your name” while saying “c, o, c, o, c, o….”  I can’t believe all the things you know; it just blows my mind how much you have learned in so little time.

You are dramatic.  Every little bump requires ice (or at least a kiss).  A tiny spill will turn you to pieces.  You can make those crocodile tears appear at a moment’s notice.  You have more facial expressions than most grownups.

You are tidy.  You eat with a fork.  You keep a napkin in your lap.  You put things back where they belong (at school more than at home).  You do not like for your hands to be dirty, though you don’t mind drawing on them with markers.  When you opened your gifts today, you tore off small pieces of wrapping paper one by one and handed them to me: no ripping into gifts for you.

You assert your independence in little ways all the time.  You’d rather walk with your hands in your pockets than holding on to one of ours.  You always trade for the grown-up silverware at dinnertime.  You specify EXACTLY what you want to eat for snack or which Sesame Street character you expect to appear on the screen when you ask.  You understand possessives incredibly well, but still declare things “mine” just to see if we’ll give them to you.

You are affectionate.  You give the best hugs.  You still love to rock, though you don’t fit in our laps as well anymore.  You love to be held.  You are a great cuddler.

You are funny.  You make me laugh every day, whether it’s wanting to see “one more bus” on the way to school or declaring “Ahriiiight” or “Nice” when you like something, I smile more when you’re around.  I can’t wait until you start telling us jokes.

You are mine.  You still look an awful lot like your dad, but I’m starting to get a little piece of that face, too, and I love it.  Every day I am more proud than the last that I am your mama, and more proud that you are my little girl.  I can’t believe how blessed I am to have you in my life, and to get to be a part of your family.  I am so thankful for every single day with you.  I love you more than you’ll ever know, and pray constantly that as you grow you’ll have even a hint of how loved you are by God and your family.  Forgive me if I can’t stop kissing that irresistible little neck.

Happy birthday, Love Bug.

Love,

Mom

SweetPea at her birthday party

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Responses

  1. I love her. And how much she is like you :) That farmer’s tan is just preparing her for a summer at camp!

  2. Amazing. Tears at my desk on a Monday. Come to think of it, that’s not entirely unusual.


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