December 21, 2013 by Ellen V
My beautiful two-year-old, you have grown up so much in the past year. I don’t even know where to begin.
You are so bright, like a giant star whose light we’re all caught up in! You love people and you bring everyone into your brilliance and energy. You are non-stop, a fun-loving machine.You don’t know how to not be friends with anyone.
Your first words and phrases have become clearer communication. You insist on helping people know who you are and what you’re all about.
You love to sing and dance, do art with play doh and crayons and markers and stickers, and put together puzzles, Legos, and blocks. You love fruit and mac and cheese and juice when you’re allowed it (which would be all the time if you had your way). You would play outside all day, everyday if you could, which is making this nasty December a hard one on you. You love anything that shows off how big and independent you are: coming up and down stairs by yourself, helping to put on your clothes, putting dirty clothes or towels down the laundry shoot, and feeding Dallas a snack every night.
You’ve grown leaps and bounds in daycare, which you call school. You speak well and learn new words every day. You learn your friends’ names. You say thanks and no thanks and how to listen to your teachers. You can recognize and say almost all your uppercase letters, you are starting to learn your shapes, and you know most of the basic colors.
You struggle with napping with all the people and commotion at school, but naps at home are still one of your favorite things. All that energy needs a rest, and you take long, 3+ hour naps to for us in your big girl bed.
Your dislikes are few, but they are fierce. You don’t like eating vegetables or any food you’ve never tried before. You hate sitting still for getting your hair combed or for meals that aren’t confined to your highchair. Actually, you just hate sitting still. Our battles almost always revolve around food and stillness.
You are not at all the daughter I expected, but I love you more than I could have ever known. You are not cuddly, but you love deeply, with a bear hug or a sloppy kiss before you’re off to your next activity. You are not patient or content, but you want the best and the most, and not just for yourself–for everyone. You love people and animals and nothing scares you, everything makes you laugh.
You make my life better, little one. Love,