Ellie-bug. My Little Foot.
You are changing so rapidly I can barely keep up. On Sunday you will be two years old and I can hardly make sense of it. Didn’t I just give birth to you? Surely not more than a year ago. No way it could have been two years already. The details, the emotions of that day are still so fresh in my mind.
Yet here you are. A precocious toddler with an alarming vocabulary of three-syllable words and the ability to count to twelve all on your own. Still no self-preservation instinct, however, lest you get feeling that you’re some genius or something. My favorite recent example of this was a week or so ago. You were sitting on the potty and told me, “Nothing coming out. Not working. Needs new batteries.” The cute little faces and gestures, the tone of voice that accompanied this are just indescribably adorable. Auntie Kelsie swears we need to video every word you ever say and market you because you are that darn cute.
You have this staccato-like way of speaking: each sentence is really a string of one- or two-word phrases, clearly punctuated. You also haven’t entirely lost the sense of urgency behind every word you say. IT! IS! ALL! SO IMPORTANT!!!!! to you. However, you do have a new found ability to use inflection. You have always had a knack for making yourself understood – even before you had words – but now there is never any mistake about exactly what you do (or don’t) want. You are also beginning to tell stories and even try to make jokes. For example, every day when Daddy walks in the door after work, you look up with a big grin and say, “Kelsie! Brand new! Kelsie!” You think you are hilarious.
You still sleep in a crib and show zero inclination to ever try climbing out of it (thank god for small miracles!) and “Diaper Gate” seems to finally be under control. The way you wake up from your naps exclaiming, “Feel! Better! Long nap!” and greet me with a huge smile gives me a midday pick-up every day. One of my favorite moments each day is when you and Zoey wake up in the morning. Now that we have placed her mattress in the same room as you, you are able to greet each other first thing in the morning. If Zoey has crawled in bed with me or gone upstairs to watch cartoons with Kelsie, you call out (in the most adorable sing-song voice) “Zoey! Zooooeeeeyy! Come back! Zooooeeeeyyy!” When Zoey is present, she climbs into the crib with you and I listen to the giggles and shrieks of laughter you two share to start your day.
You sing: “Let it goooooo!” Twinkle Little Star. Ring Around the Rosy. You dance and have quite the repertoire of moves. You copy everything Zoey says and does; you clearly think she hung the moon. I’m fairly certain you are going to be quite put out once this new baby comes and you suddenly find yourself the middle child rather than the baby. I love the way you bring your blanket (the ever-present, priceless, irreplaceable, must not ever lose “Day”) and crawl up in my lap asking to “Snuggle. Please. On couch.” You really have quite impeccable manners, by the way.
Eleanor, you grow ever more amazing every single day. Not a day goes by that you don’t make me laugh, test my patience and melt my heart. My absolute favorite thing you can do now that you are two? It’s the way you wrap your little arms around my neck as tight as you can, kiss me on the cheek and say, “Wuv you Mama.”