Two! Two! Two!

Dear Lili,

As I was driving you to Grandma's house early yesterday morning, the day before your 2nd birthday, you piped up from the back as we were crossing over Lake Street to say (with a sly twinkle in your voice), "Somebody's birthday is coming up....". And this past weekend, when we were in Owatonna celebrating a joint Mother's/Nana's Day/early Lili birthday, you responded when Papou asked you how old you were by saying, "Lili two!" I think even Papou was impressed, little girl.

You are very, very smart. In addition to grasping the birthday concept, you are already well versed in colors (which we practice regularly when stuck in traffic or while out on walks), and your vocabulary would stump even a high school SAT examiner. Favorite words of Mommy's, from the mouth of a babe, include discombobulated, red-winged blackbird, hedgehog, and iguanodon. You often manage to work these in to daily conversation, which is rather astounding for a mere 24 months. Nana affectionately refers to you as a "magpie".

Your temper continues to be magnificent. Much like your long torso, I like to claim that you inherited this from your Mama. The following scenarios will most certainly make you blind with rage:

• Being told to do something
• Being told not to do something
• Pugs moving at high speeds on hardwood floors
• Being unable to force large items into significantly smaller spaces
• Vegetables
• Not being allowed to wear winter and/or rain boots when it is 75 degrees and sunny
• Your moms kissing, hugging, or showing any physical affection at all while within your line of vision

On the flip side, a smile, giggle, or at least momentary distraction can often be gained by exposing you to the following:

• Green space
• Lady Gaga
• String cheese
• Tea parties
• Goodnight Gorilla
• Panda May
• Art supplies of any ilk 
• Wooden fruit
• Exaggerated facial expressions (Mama is particularly good at these)

I still read to you every night before bed. Current favorites include The Runaway Bunny, I Took the Moon for a Walk, and Tippy, Tippy, Tippy, Hide. Lately, when the last book is finished, you've taken to flopping back on the cushion of mom pillows and pleading,  "Sleep in Mommy's bed...by Mommy". I admit to falling for this ploy on a somewhat regular basis, despite the face kicks, bed hogging, and limb flailing that inevitably follows. Inhaling your sweet, sleepy breath renders me defenseless.    

You are beautiful, exhausting, willful, sensitive, chaotic, silly, and achingly empathetic. I hope you never change.

Happy number two, little babe. In the crooked circle of my life, sweetness, you are both the beginning and the end.

All my love,
Mommy