Two. Two!!

Two. Two!!

I can hardly even believe that my baby turns 2 today. It doesn’t seem that long ago that the doctor put you into my arms with the declaration, “it’s a girl!”

I had to look back at my first-year calendar to remember what you were doing – or more accurately, not doing – one year ago. Because it seems like EVERYTHING has changed.

Among the things I noted last year for the month of May: You discovered the cat door that goes into the basement stairway...you had five teeth...you would dip the handle end of a spoon into food...you ate your first hot dog...you loved playing peekaboo, but would sometimes miss your eyes and cover up the sides of your head instead.

Now you're more interested in chasing the cats...you have 16 teeth...you've pretty much mastered the utensils...you prefer a good turkey kielbasa to hot dogs...but you still love playing peekaboo.



Back then, you were crawling around on all fours. I remember picking you up from day care and you'd crawl over to me so fast and then pull yourself up around my shins. Now, you run. In fact, you are little dynamo. The other night, on the way home from the park, Owen took off in a dash to the house and you wanted to follow, but not before taking a moment to stop, remove your mittens and hand them to me before taking off running again. Apparently, the mittens were slowing you down.

You attack life with so much energy. I just love watching you bolt around the house. You get an idea in your head that you want x from the other room and off you go, running to get it, often with a soundtrack of excited babbles. Sometimes you take a turn a bit too fast, which results in a spill. But most of the time, you hop right back up, your eyes on your goal. This energy and fearlessness has a downside, though, because you'll also disappear from our sight in a second in a store or in the backyard, and you think nothing of attempting to walk down the stairs solo if we're not at your side fast enough.


I still have such a vivid memory of your first “real” steps. It happened while we were on vacation in Wisconsin Dells last August, and one night, you joyfully walked the long span between Jon and I in the living room. And then you did it again and again. You were so proud of yourself, and clutching your blanket along the way.



You and Owen have really fallen into the role of siblings, complete with the all the rivalry. I suppose it only makes sense among siblings that love and admiration mix up with competition and control in a way that make the two of you go from best friends one minute to adversaries the next. But oh, how you do look up to your big brother and want to follow him around and do whatever he does. And he loves playing with you, too. Some of my favorite moments are watching the two of you interact. You respond to him in a much different way than to us. Sometimes, you have no interest in holding Mommy's hand in the store, but you'll quickly hold Owen's if he asks.



You've started being more in tune with your surroundings. You notice if someone gets hurt and ask if they're OK. And if someone says "ouch" you often follow with a "sah-we," even though you had nothing to do with it. You love giving away kisses, pursing up your lips so big there's no way anyone could resist.

Your language has progressed so much, I can't even believe it. It seems like you're saying more and more every day. You can repeat just about any word we (or, more likely, Owen ) throw at you. In fact, he gets a kick out of testing you by asking you to repeat words. Sometimes, you'll repeat our "I wuv you," which just melts my heart. You're mostly able to communicate what you want, even if only WE understand that "bay" is bread and "ah-saws" is applesauce. You're pretty good at saying "Nooooo," too.

You love your books, which you'll pile around yourself, and babies, which you'll strip naked. Your laugh is so wonderful. I loving smothering you with kisses and nuzzles and seeing your eyes get all crinkled and smiley and you laughing so big. You are such a happy girl. You can be almost completely asleep when we bring you down for breakfast and set you in your chair at the table and within 2 minutes you've perked up, are asking for milk and are babbling away. Some mornings (and nights) I hear you awake in your crib, singing to yourself or contentedly "reading" a book. Your temper definitely has started to show itself, but you usually recover very quickly. You'll stomp off in disgust at something, but come back 45 seconds later. I hope that lasts.



I love the girl you're becoming. I love the girl you are. My sweet little 2-year-old, Nora. I can't imagine my life without you. Happy Birthday.