I really do not know where the past two years have gone. I look at this little girl with a mouth full of teeth who a year ago only had four and the year before that had none. This little girl who used to need me to carry her around can now walk there herself and who used to cry because she needed me to know she was tired and now just says, “Night night!”. My little baby is a little girl.
Two Years Old. Her favorite food is graham crackers, favorite music is disco, favorite toy is Baby her stuffed Hershey bear, favorite book changes weekly (this week it’s Brown Bear Brown Bear) and her favorite show is Sesame Street. She likes things to be clean and will wipe her own high chair tray and throw away trash even as she leaves a trail of toys in her wake. She thinks she is the funniest ever. And she’s right, she is. Every time she hides behind the shower curtain or knocks on my legs to get my attention or puts her face close to mine and pulls her patented silly face I crack up.
Two years ago this little dynamo couldn’t wait three more weeks for her due date to join our family and I loved her from that first moment. I can barely put into words how I feel about her now. It’s a love that is fierce, that is equal parts joy, fear, exasperated, amused and hopeful. It’s been a privilege to watch her grow from a baby to a toddler and I can’t wait to see what she does next.