Micaela, you have turned 26 months old a couple of days ago and, let me tell you that the past month with you has been golden to me, in large part because you have undergone an enormous intellectual growth spurt. Your personality, your communication skills, your ability to reason through problems, your comprehension of the world around you, your engagement in make-believe play – it’s all come together in big ways this month. This is SO COOL! And also we must THANK GOD because those frustrated tantrums every time a puzzle piece doesn't quite fit or we don´t play exactly as you want us to play have not killed us darling... :)
The big problem I've run into over the past month is that people…well…they understand you. You have dozens of nursery rhymes and songs memorized. Dozens. And sometimes when something reminds you of one, you just burst into verse right there. A recital of Bah, bah black sheep, all five verses of The wheels on the bus pretty much every nursery rhyme in existence, seven in a row – whatever it is, you bust it out, and people understand. Three or four lines into your masterpiece, they always compliment you and cheer you on (which you don´t always like... you want them to listen, enjoy, and keep it to themselves).
By the time you've finished singing them a few lullabies, regaling them with Exciting Tales! about your last visit to the Supermarket! WHICH WAS EXCITING! and telling them all about the big bad wolf, though, they’re looking at me like can’t I please intercede? All they want is to applaud you on your first song and now they've spent ten minutes listening to you rattle on about how mannequins at Wong don´t have heads. And I’m pretty much like, HA, this is my girl. Tell me if you find a two year old with so much information and vocabulary...
You know what, my sweet princess? Nobody will ever be able to accuse you of being boring. NO ONE! You are so much fun and make my days shine, even when I want to lay in bed, cover myself and sleep for 2 days in a row because something else went wrong.
You have also become unbelievably polite lately. Don’t get me wrong, you’re still two. You still interrupt conversations, strip in public, throw tantrums, and shriek in pitches only bats can hear at every available opportunity. But you also say please and thank you, apologize, and dole out hugs if you think your actions hurt someone – completely independently.
Sometimes watching you grow up absolutely blows my mind. You used to be a tiny bundle of digestive processes and then WHAM!, here you are excusing yourself when you burp. Every time it happens, I feel a little blown away. Like: WHAY TO GO CYN, I made a person! A real person! And an exceptional one WHO SAYS PLEASE AND THANK YOU!
Darling girl, your father and I adore you. We adore you with every inch of our bodies, every beat of our hearts, every breath in our lungs.
We love you more than you can ever imagine, and we will always love you that way!
Momma
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