Mom of All Trades: Two

Well, sweet J, you turned two about a week and a half ago. It seems like you were born about a minute and a half ago, but time flies when you're watching your heart walk around outside of your body, right? You are the pride and joy of your entire family. You are rotten and spoiled and you are all ours, we couldn't be happier. You are the typical baby of the family, slow to talk, quick to scream, and the object of everyone's complete and utter adoration. Since you've been slower to talk than your siblings were, you are a master of body language. There is no mistaking your desires, especially when you waggle your little finger and tell us, "'Mere! 'Mere!", pointing and acting your way through every day is what we've come to count on. You surprise us every day with a new word you can clearly articulate, but we will forever be on the lookout for your happy little dance that shows us the delight in your heart. You spend a good portion of every day trying to talk us out of just one more "bi-C" (vitamin C) and each time we give in, you very somberly mimic us telling you, "only one more, or you'll have a sore bum", you even point your little finger and roll your eyes.

You were so eager to ditch your diapers that you potty trained your little self to the point we could take you out in public with just your big girl panties. Then, for whatever reason, you decided big girl panties weren't all that and a bag of chips, and it's been diapers ever since. You are the most confounding bundle of opposition the world has ever known. You are ornery and sweet, mean and caring, shy and outgoing, scream in the car but you love to go places, the only thing we can count on is that you will do the opposite of what we expect...or not.

You surprise and delight your nursery teachers with your ability to hold a pencil correctly and string beads onto a pipe cleaner, too bad they can't see you run the Casio piano. You know which buttons to push to make it play all your favorite songs and you spend hours each day singing and dancing along with it. Your father and I often joke that you will be in third grade by the time you are six since you refuse to be left out of the homeschool day. We give you your "paypee" and "peepee" each day and you sit at the table with B and K and work just like they do. Just last night, you amazed us all with your ability to bean your sister, then your brother, in the head with a roll around ball at 15 paces. In fact, you can pretty much hit anything you throw at. Your dad couldn't be prouder. Your siblings have taken to wearing their batting helmets indoors.

You tell us "pfunny" (funny), "shash" (trash), "pitty" (pretty), "ticka" (tickle), "'ep meeee" (help me), "step-step", "uppy" (cup, up, puppy), "pee pee" (paper, pencil, get me to a bathroom, and look what I have), you love your "di-dow" (pillow) and your "ki-ki" (blankie), and you have recently developed a love affair with "Bonnie", the big purple dinosaur. You also love Blue's Clue's and have a special sound you use for that, it sounds nothing like Blue or Clue. You also roar. We aren't sure why you do it, but you think it is hysterical. Perhaps the funniest thing you do lately is bring daddy your cat book, and then make daddy chase you with it. You giggle and flirt and dramatize the kitty getting you like it were a real, live cat chasing after you.

You hate clothes and spend a good part of each day as n@ked as a jay-bird. It really is something to see a n@ked girl flop herself onto her brothers skate board and scoot herself across the kitchen like super man. You've also perfected the art of n@ked-couch-flopping. This involves removing all the pillows from the couch, yelling "fi-fi" (excuse me) at the top of your lungs until any bodies that dared sit upon said couch move to another location, and then climbing onto the arm, standing up, and belly flopping onto the seat. You get extra points if you roll off the seat and onto the pillows that litter the floor from step one.

You've decided your sister is a good royal subject, and have decided she should be allowed to share your air. This was a wise decision on your part, your bubba loves you, but he's not nearly as cute in a princess dress. They both wait on you hand and foot, and I have to say, you owe them big-time. You are a fickle playmate and they are very patient with your impatience.

You are the best entertainment we've ever had. Watching you do crunches with me is enough to send us all into fits of laughter. When you get into trouble, you run to your room, scream for 5 minutes or so, and return as though nothing at all ever happened. We let our phones ring extra long just so we can watch you dance. You sing yourself to sleep each night and fill our world with a cuteness that is so blinding that we forgive you all your tantrums.