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9.06.2016

A letter to E: 2 years old

Dear E,
You are two. TWO. Actually, you’ve been two for a couple of months now, but I still get those moments when the reality of it floors me. That’s when I want to grab onto time and pull it back, stop it for a while so I can catch my breath. But that, of course, isn’t a thing. So here we are: me and you, little bug. My big girl.



I think this is my favorite age, so far. You’re active, independent, and a little wild. You insist that I share my chapstick, love to be chased, and can handle your lunch from start to finish pretty much by yourself. You stall bedtime as much as possible and think rocking with mommy can fix everything. Every time we hear a baby crying in public, you tell me he/she needs to rock. And you ask for extra hugankiss at nap time every day.
Usually, you’re adorable. Your dimply smile is magic–you can get your daddy to do anything for you if you give him a hug and a smile. But sometimes you get whiny and boy can you whine. Most often, about how “hungy” you are and how much you want a “swammich.” Nevermind the fact that you just polished off your lunch 15 minutes ago. You eat like a beast. Still, the little fat roll on your thigh is almost totally gone now, so you must be putting all that food to good use.
You like to sing–a lot. The other day, I heard you in your room singing “Maaawwwwyyyy had a yaaaamb. Mawy has a Jeeeesus, a baaaaby!” For the record, those are two different Marys. We’ll work on it. You’re starting to repeat parts of songs I sing to you or that we listen to in the car (“sunshiiine, make me happyyyyy when skies graaaaaay!”). Your favorite fallback is still “yaaaaa yaaaa yaaaaaa,” though, and you usually pause to let me know “I singing!” You go, girl.
Your favorite animal right now is an elephant. You’ve seen them at the zoo several times, but really I think you just enjoy the fact that, when I ask what an elephant says, you get to make fart sounds. Because you also happen to think that farting is hilarious. It makes you dissolve into uncontrollable giggles, and you often do it on purpose, just because you can. I’ll be sure to remind you of this some day when you tell me some little boy is gross because he farted near you.
At two, you’re delightful. You’re such a cute, sweet, lovely little girl. Before you know it, you’re going to be in school, growing up, up, and away. So don’t mind me if I “squeeze the love into you” a little too often or cover you in kisses more than you’d like. I just want to hold onto you as tightly as I can while I have the chance. My little bug. You’re the best.
Love and kisses,
Mom

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