But now you are sleeping and I am about to join you so that you don't fall out of bed and bust your noggin like you did the other night because I am, of course, Mother of the Year.
As much as you drive me absolutely bonkers sometimes (because we could not be more alike, except for the fact that you tan, a little detail I discovered this week), I spend most of your waking hours marveling over how absolutely charming and funny you are. Except, of course, when you're screeching with displeasure.
A few months ago I started to worry that you might not reach the "two by two" milestone, meaning that you should be able to put two words together by the time you are two. But now that you carry on conversations with your brother and frequently say things like, "Can you help me Mama?" and, "Happy Birthday to you, ceiling! Happy Birthday to you, curtains!" (which was cute for the first five minutes, but not so much after that), I guess I'll have to find something else to worry about.
Maybe it'll be your hair, which mostly looks like a little red Q-tip that's been sitting in the bottom of the bathroom drawer for two years. You don't particularly care for bows, so you spend most of your time running through the house with a mass of red curls flopping around. We can actually determine relative humidity fairly accurately based on the condition of your little Clare-fro.
Thank you for finally going to the church nursery without throwing a major tantrum, by the way, even though you still start every Sunday morning with the words, "church nursery. Mad!" We know it's just for show now, so you can stop the theatrics. Never mind. You specialize in theatics. Carry on. And keep using the word "mad" as a gerund, too, because that's really cute. Especially when, in the middle of a fit, you stop sniffling long enough to tell us that you'll "stop madding now." Thanks, kid. We also haven't had the heart to suggest that you start calling it your "bottom" instead of your "bommin," or "muffin" instead of "muffum." And don't let anyone ever suggest to you that your big brother is anything but the most fabulous little boy in the whole world. Even though you're the only person in the world from whom he'll grab things, never stop thinking that he is the one you should emulate.
Speaking of him, forgive us if we don't pick up on your gifts as quickly as we did his. He's a quick study. Give him a puzzle and a block and he's happy. We're still trying to figure you out, probably because Vati and I learn the way he learns. You still confound us. But don't think for a second that you're any less bright than he is. You've got everything in the world going for you. Most of all, you've got moxie. You'll never be a wallflower, and you'll never take crap from anyone--I still worry about Joshua getting his feelings hurt. You? Not so much. You'll be able to take care of yourself...
Happy second birthday, baby girl. You are the sunshine of my life.