Sylvie girl, you are two and a half.
Of course, according to you, you are four. Let’s not push it.
Two and a half is so much bigger than two. You are so much less toddler, and so much more little girl.
Pretty much my favorite thing about you right now is how verbal you are. You talk non-stop. Even when we’re in the car on a long trip, you often don’t need anything to entertain yourself because you sit in your car-seat and talk to whoever will listen for hours on end. You say very clever things, and your vocabulary is pretty ridiculous. You’ll try to negotiate with me and then you say, “Does that sound like a good deal, Mom?” or “How’s that sound?” I wish I could type out everything you’ve said for the last month, because you say so many things that I want to remember. I know I’ll forget. So I’m just enjoying you as much as I can right now.
You are so thankful, a beautiful part of your little personality that is beginning to show us who you will be. Very often, at random, you’ll thank me for doing things for you.
“Mommy, thank you so much for taking me to the park.”
“Mommy, thank you for picking up my mess.”
“Mommy, thank you for being a Mommy.”
It melts my heart.
You know all your shapes, right down to a hexagon. The other day you woke up, came down stairs, looked at your Daddy and instead of a good morning, you said, “Daddy, your head is shaped like an oval.” Why yes, yes it is. You know all your colors and you count to 30 with no help at all.
You and your best friend.
You have this energy about you that follows you wherever you go. It seems you are always excited about something, and you never sit still.
You sing all the time, about everything you’re doing. If you can’t come up with a song, then you just sing gibberish. But you have quite the repertoire of songs from the Wheels on The Bus (your current favorite) to Come Thou Fount and Hallelujah He Reigns. It’s wonderful. I love listening to you sing.
The more I get to know you, the more I see you are exactly like your Daddy. You are excited about everything. You love numbers and shapes. You are physically cautious on the playground, needing some coaxing to do “scarier” things. When I ask you to do something, you sit for a moment and calculate exactly how much effort it is going to take before you decide if you are going to listen or not. (Not that you’re Daddy is lazy in any way, he just likes to know what a job is going to take. :)) You have absolutely no issue with everything being a complete mess, but you default to having your toys lined up in rows, usually color coded, and in some sequence that makes perfect sense to you, before you are done playing with them. Yesterday at the park you found a handful of candies sitting on a picnic table. You went for them and I thought you were going to try to eat them, but you just wanted to line them up in a straight line organized by what kind of candy it was. There is a particular order amidst the chaos in your little brain.
Does this remind you of anyone you know?
You can definitely throw a nice fit, but two’s not been so terrible after all. I love getting to know your personality. I love that you are old enough to have full conversations with now. You’re snugglier than you’ve ever been (but that’s not saying much) and I love getting the occasional Sylvie snuggle.
Your Daddy and I both secretly hope that you’ll pick us to put you to bed at night because it is so much fun. You have long conversations with us. You pray for your friends. You are silly and try to tell jokes. I love it, and you do too.
Some day, child, you are going to be a force to be reckoned with. You could make change in this big world. I love you more than you will ever know, and I will always be there cheering you on.
Love you, love you, love you,