Dear Lady Baby,
Your father and I have now survived two years of being your parents. A feat that we are both proud and humbled by. Every day you remind us why we chose to become parents. You give awesome hugs, sweet kisses, and say "I love you" a lot. There are also many moments that remind us that we had no idea what we were getting into when we brought you home from the hospital. We had no idea the sheer energy it takes to manage a toddler. I recall back to your early days when you were happy staring at a ceiling fan for the 15 min you were awake. All you needed was a little milk and somewhere warm to snuggle. And we thought that time was hard. Ha! I would like to go back and slap my former self. Sure you had colic and cried a lot in the evening. Yes, you had your days and nights mixed up for awhile. But you were immobile. And couldn't talk. You were a baby. Then you became a toddler and changed the game on us. We were ill prepared. What we didn't know was that you would tear up board books up and eat them. We had no knowledge that you would scream with sheer abandon every time you get excited, especially in public. It was unknown to us that once you heard the word "Damn" you would use it profusely. We thought once a child slept through the night, they always slept through the night. We thought once they started eating food and liked it all, they would always be good eaters. How foolish we were. Mommy and Daddy did not know that toddlers are mini-dictators who avoid sharing at all costs and use "mine" as a constant battle cry. I am sorry to bother you daily with our silly rules, which you take as mere suggestions. Your keen ability to know exactly what will make us the craziest the fastest is impressive. You have great talent in the area of lying with not only a straight face, but a completely innocent one. I only pray that you will be able to channel that into some sort of marketable skill in adulthood. Preferably something that will allow us to retire early, like a career in Lifetime movies. Your ability to sob loudly and quickly change to laughing maniacally should also help in that department.
You should know that we have not only survived you, but we have enjoyed you. In the last two years you have gone from a toothless crawler to a runner who talks in full sentences. The last 365 days have been the most exciting, and exhausting, of my life. We are so lucky to be the ones to hold you when you cry, kiss your boo boos, and snuggle you. We are honored to call such a quick witted and clever little girl our daughter. We count our blessings that you have only colored one of the dining room chairs with a pen and you have only eaten one tube of chap stick. We are thankful that you have only thrown one makeup brush and your Mickey Mouse doll in the toilet. I particularly love that you articulate the phrase "No Mommy, Stop it" so well and use it so liberally. We appreciate that it takes a good bribe to get through any shopping trip that involves you sitting in a cart. Your passion and resolve will serve you very well later in life, I am sure of it. Both will be very beneficial in whatever you choose to do. If acting does not work out, I feel that your strength's lie in world domination and/or management.
Thank you for two amazing years. You have taken us to heights of love and frustration that we never knew were possible. I can only think that this is preparation for your teenage years. If that is indeed the case, please remember that a hug and a smile go a long way and no matter what you do, we will always love you. We may not like you, but we will love you.
Welcome to your third year of life. I am sure you will make it your own with that take-no-prisoners attitude that we both love and find a little scary. We are ushering in the year of "why," potty training, and a big girl bed. I cannot wait to see what the next 365 days bring us.
|First minutes on the outside|
|One Year Old|
|Two year old |
(best pic we got becuase she was all over the place!)