Dear Little One,
Did you know you are two years old? And your silly Mama hasn’t yet sat down to write about how incredible of a two-year-old you are? I’m not sure why I haven’t written. I guess it’s because I believe I will always remember the small things, how could a Mother forget? How could I forget how “squarey” Daddy’s tickle attacks are (squarey = scary), or your love of helping me crack the eggs open when I make scrambled eggs, or how scared you get when the garbage truck goes by. I’m sure I will always remember the weight of your little self on me as we rock for the 750th day in a row before bed time, or your favorite worn-through Elmo or the way you love to sing in the car. Of course I’ll never forget.
Except when I do forget. I went to see your new, fresh out of Heaven cousin Jack and was asked so many times “how did this feel?” “what did you do when Audrey did this,” “how did Audrey handle this.” And I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t remember just two years ago to when you were fresh to us and we were winding through the darkness of the newborn months. I couldn’t remember how you liked to be burped, or the extreme exhaustion of no sleep, or how long it took you to grow out of newborn clothes.
But what I do remember, and know I will remember forever is how you feel in my arms. No matter how long and little-girl-like you are getting, you are still my baby and always the one who made me a Mama. I will never forget your long eyelashes resting on your cheeks as you fight sleep because you are just like your Daddy and love to stay up late. I hope I never forget how you say “waffle” and “milk” and “let’s go!” with such gumption. I think I’ll always remember how you are already making up songs, your favorite tune being “Frere Jacque.” I hope you sing forever.
You love “snowman i.e., the movie Frozen,” “cookies” and Play-Doh. You don’t like Sadie eating your food, going inside, or most vegetables. We are working on sharing, going to the potty and not touching hot things. You are so curious and talking. all. the. time. You are empathetic. You drop your baby doll and immediately say “it’s OK, I got you.” You like to play the “yes/no” game where if Mama says no, you respond with yes, and then Mama says no again, and then you say yes again, and then Mama tricks you and says yes, and you are smart enough to switch to no! You love to sit on my lap and play with my makeup as I get ready in the morning. You are still in your crib, and if you really thought about it could climb out, but we’re holding out as long as we can to keep you in there because I know the second you’re free, we are in so much trouble!
I love you little one and I promise to never, ever, ever forget how much I love you.