April 30, 2013
Little bitty Naomi. I’m not sure how you got to be two years old, all I know is that when I look back at your baby pictures there’s a little pang in my heart because it all flew by so fast!
This post is a few days late, but I have a good excuse. In the last 3 weeks you have had a stomach bug 4 different times. UGH. That’s no fun. Hopefully you’re over it, and you can enjoy the rest of your year much more.
If there is one thing that describes your personality, it is passionate. And opinionated. And forward. So I guess that’s three things. What you lack in size, you make up in vigor. When you are happy, you are so, so happy.
But if you are mad? Watch out world.
We’ve now removed you from childcare at church, and you have to stay in Sylvia and Tootaw’s classroom at bible study. Like I said, you are forward. Unfortunately, you are forward with your hands – in the form of hitting. We are working through it. For a long time you scratched. You don’t scratch anymore, now you hit – we’re making progress. (I think?) Anyway, you have taught me some intense lessons on sin nature. Thank goodness for Jesus, yeah?
But, that is such a very small part of who you are. A very small part that will pass in a phase (I. Hope.).
You are talking a lot more now, with small sentences. But you still go on 2 minute long monologues of babble that have us all stumped. Clearly you are saying something, you’re just the only one who knows what it is. I love it.
You have about as much personality as you could possibly pack into a little two year old. You are bursting with life and energy – whether it be with ultimate joy or severe wrath, you let yourself be known. Of course in our house you have to go loud or go home, so you’re just doing what you’ve gotta do. You have hundreds of facial expressions that you make make sure you use in rapid succession as often as possible. You have a wonderful giggle, and a very stubborn and obstinate “NO!”.
You haven’t weaned yourself yet. Mama’s starting to think I may have to play into that process with you. Your sister weaned herself at almost exactly two years old, but you want nothing to do with that. You love to nurse. You frequently climb onto my lap and tell me, “I unna sees!” Which means, I want to nurse, and I’m going to insist on it until you give in. It’s ok. I love that you love to nurse. I love that it comforts you so much. I love that we are still building a bond that will last forever. Someday you will wean. I think.
You have just recently started asking to sit on the potty. You have yet to go, but it’s a step. Actually, one time, you asked your Daddy if you could sit on the potty and he obliged. You went through the motions, with no real potty. Afterward, Daddy shut the lid and stood you on the potty while he brushed his teeth, during which time you peed. So, technically you did pee ON the potty, just not in it.
You love playing with your sisters. And they love you. Of course there is a fair share of fighting, but you wouldn’t be sisters if there weren’t. You run around after them, trying to keep up with whatever make believe game they’re playing. When you get tired of that you follow me around whatever I’m doing – usually pretty insistent on being held. You love to be held still. As independent of a spirit you have, you are still attached to me at the hip.
You know your animals and all of their sounds. Your favorite is anything that growls. You love to growl and frequently pretend to be a monster. If I ask you if you’re a nice monster, you say, “Eat you up!” I guess that’s a no. You know some of your shapes and some of your colors. You love to read books.
You look exactly like me, only with blonde hair and blue eyes. We looked at my baby pictures last weekend and it is uncanny how much we look alike. And you are tiny like me. At two years old, you weigh a whopping 20 pounds and you are in 12-18 month clothes. Teeny. Tiny.
Regularly your dad and I look at each other and say something to the effect of, “Has ever a cuter creature existed?” Of course, we won’t tell you that now, but when your 25 and reading this, I don’t imagine it will do too much to your ego.
I love you little Nay-nay Roo. I love your passion. I love your energy. I love your zeal. I love your teeny-tinyness. I love that you always want your Mama (unless your grandpa is there.). I love that you’re quick to say I’m sorry and I love you. I love that your smile makes me feel like I must be the most blessed person in the world.
I love you.
I always will.
When you’re 2.
When your 42.
When your 62. (Lord willing.)
Love you, love you, love you,