It’s not like she can look at a calendar, right? Except she SORT of can, and her big sister definitely can, and she’s a blabbermouth, but maybe it could work. Two is the absolute sweetest age. I don’t know that it’s the BEST age or even my FAVORITE age, but it is the sweetest. She still wants snuggles in my lap and she walks around the house dragging one of my old tank tops behind her. (She calls it her MMCH, formerly “lunch”, and bites on the strap while she falls asleep. It’s her last holdover from weaning over a year ago. She also sometimes calls me “Yum” or “Yummy” instead of Mom, and I pretend I don’t love it but I really really love it.)
It is impossible for me to talk about this child without sounding like I’m bragging. And FINE, maybe I AM bragging, but not in any sort of “don’t you wish this were your kid?” or “don’t you wish your kid did this?” way. I am just in awe of this child. The things she knows and says blow my mind on an hourly basis, and I can’t wait to see what her little brain becomes capable of in the next couple of years.
She knows most of the states by shape, and she insists on checking out a book on a different state each time we visit the library. She draws like a big kid and writes her name and her sister’s name and she’s memorized the words to every book she loves. She wants to be a Kindergartener more than anything and pulls up her little chair and a piece of paper to do her sister’s homework with her. Mostly I’m sharing that because I am going to forget all those things she learned when she was just two. I can’t remember what Vio could do at two, because it blended in to what she learned at three and four and now she’s in school and it all happens so quickly. Surely the first six months of their lives lasted longer than all the years that have gone by since.
Her love for her baby brother is ENORMOUS. I was so nervous she would be jealous, and I’m sure that will eventually hit (I know it often waits for age three, which, as I’ve mentioned, WE ARE JUST NOT DOING), but for now she chases me around the house while I carry him, shrieking, “Baby, come back! PWEASE, baby!” She thinks he is HER baby and refers to him thusly. As soon as she sees him, she tells him, “Oh, you are such a cute baby. I never knew a baby could be so cute. I MAY kiss you!” And then she kisses the top of his head and his whole face lights up. Then there are the times she lovingly pats him and tells him, “I didn’t know you would be a boy baby. I really wanted a girl baby.” So, you know. It evens out.
She calls Vio her “Sweetie”, and she can’t stand when she’s out of the house. Of course, as soon as Vio gets home from school, they are fighting like cats and dogs. Or whatever is worse than cats and dogs. Sisters, pretty much.
The very best part of my day right now is the hour or two we have in the morning while Leo takes his nap. We sit on my bed and play board games and ipod games and giggle. She routinely beats me at all versions of Memory (“Membery”) and excitedly chants “Come on, Donalds and cwubhouses!” while she shakes the dice for Yahtzee Jr.
She loves the color yellow and elephants, they’ve been her favorite for over a year, but now she’s suddenly telling me pink and giraffes. I just jam my fingers in my ears because that sounds like growing up.
She is fierce and fearless and everything I am not in so many ways and I love that so much I cannot even get out more than a measly run-on sentence about it.
I’ve never cut her hair. I call her my baby Rapunzel, and I’ll probably WEEP the first time it needs a trim. Well, the first time I admit it needs a trim. She’s asked for a haircut, like her big sister gets, and I’ve been telling her “when you’re three! when you’re three!”
So, really. It’s for the best I don’t tell her, right? I think one day she’ll understand.