Hello, baby: You're two.

Hello, baby.
You are not a baby anymore, big girl. You're a toddler. But sometimes when you need a little extra love (usually when I'm trying to clean), you go find a play baby bottle, pretend to cry, suck on it, and demand to be held and snuggled until you're "full."

You built a house yesterday for
"Hink" the Bulldog and you were so
proud of it, so we took a
picture. I know it's not the
best picture but I love it when you
throw your head back and giggle.

You are sweet and smart and funny.  I was a little nervous for the toddler stage (and still am), because I've always loved snuggling babies but been exhausted by toddlers, but you are winning the prize for toddler awesomeness. You do exhaust us, all.the.time, especially now because you have a cold and you've been up a lot at night, but being your mom is the best thing I've ever done.

Don't get too cocky - you have your moments. You're two, and there's a reason they call it the Terrible Twos.  You have strong opinions and change them in a second's notice to another very strong but completely opposite opinion.  For example, last night I asked if you wanted "mack-a-cheese" or soup for dinner, and you declared "MACK-A-CHEESE! NO SOUP!" as you pushed away the tub of soup leftover from the previous night.  So I got out a pot and began to boil water.  It had warmed maybe 4 degrees when you announced "SOUP! ME SOUP!"

I take a lot of deep breaths these days.

I turned off the stove, got out a bowl, and we put soup in it.  It was in the microwave for about 9 seconds when you declared "MACK-A-CHEESE!" But we were too far into the soup process, so you ate soup.  It was healthier anyway.

I couldn't find our tennis shoes
anywhere for three days. I thought
I was going crazy. Look where
I finally found them - in the
"freezer" of your play kitchen.

You also love to declare that you need to do things "me self" many times a day.  I have a love-hate relationship with these declarations.  My heart melts each time you announce "me self" and then successfully fasten your shoes, put on your socks, go on the potty, go down the twirly slide all by yourself, pour frozen peas into a bowl, sing the ABCs (kind of), or count to thirteen, or something else that you wouldn't have been able to do on your own even a month ago. But, when you declare ME SELF sixteen times on the way out the door to make an appointment on time, I nearly lose my marbles.  (I'm getting gray hairs. Several of them.)

But you are so good and kind.  You love babies and taking care of them.  You understand when people are "sad" and want to help them get better. You love gymnastics and cheer when we pull in the parking lot. (Tonight you jumped into the "pit" all by yourself, something you've been nervous about for several weeks. You were so proud of yourself and did it over and over for the next 10 minutes.)  You love to play outside and have discovered the fun of hopscotch.  You love to wrap presents - you will get a Kleenex or a baby wipe and a small toy and wrap me presents several times a day, and then insist that we sing Happy Birthday to you ("Nona," as you call yourself) and then me, and usually Zadie, too. 

As a side note, please stop coughing in my face in the middle of the night.

I love you, little girl.  Thanks for being mine.