Well, here it is. The very last letter I will write to my two-year old daughter. You'll be three a month from today. It makes me cry, but they are (mostly!) happy tears. These 35 months have been the very best of my life, and each day I am grateful I was chosen to be your Mama. You're such a gift to me, Daddy, the Beagle, our families, and your village. I can't think of one person who doesn't love you, and I don't blame them! Like trick-or-treating last weekend with Daddy ... even the neighbors love you, as you came home bearing a pumpkin overflowing with love in sugar form. Your heart, your spirit, your gratitude, your light, your will. You are a fiery little package at 32 pounds.
Still, the last thing I do before I go to bed is go in and check on you. You generally are asleep on your back or side, with NaNa right up by your face, and one or both feet sticking out of the covers. That's exactly how I sleep. It makes me smile. But, recently, I find your foot, and watch and watch and watch until it connects to the rest of your body and you are SUCH a big girl. I bet by next summer you'll need a real bed, that Daddy will be dismantling your toddler bed and you'll ask him with a trembling lip, where'd the other one go? just as you did when we took down your crib. That's what happens in life- we outgrow things and get bigger and bigger. It can be hard, there's no doubt, but at least we are lucky enough to be on this side of it. Growing is good, it's a gift. It's just really hard on your Mama sometimes!
Tomorrow morning I am taking a "Cradle to School: Ready to Learn" class for parents of children ages birth through five. You're closer to five than you are to birth! Mama needs a little preparation for the next stage of life, I think. It's mind boggling, but doesn't necessarily surprise me you're already pushing towards those stages. Daddy and I continually talk about how adept and smart you are. How perceptive you are of your surroundings. How even the smallest details fail to escape you. You have a iron-clad memory and shock me with everyday connections, like pointing out vehicles on the roads that match the ones everyone in your village drive. It's freaky ... and fantastic. For the past month, you've gotten into the true spirit of the holidays and your impending birthday, by poring over magazines and catalogues full of toys. Seriously, at dinner tonight, you sat at the counter with your Pottery Barn Kids, American Girl, Fisher Price, and Little Tikes pages and told about EVERYTHING that was awesome, in your opinion. Your focus and calmness reminds me of your buddy Big T and the way he studies and obsesses over sports pages, magazines, and programs. You're just like him, in that sense, only as it relates to consumerism.
One more month, lil' dude. I know you're ready.
I am getting there ... too.
Mama loves.
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