Here is the 2012 installment of our long-standing New Year’s glasses pictures of Grace and Hazel. Amazing how far those little girls have come in a year (which you can also see below).
We hope everyone has a safe New Year’s Eve and a happy, healthy and generally wonderful 365 days to follow!
2012
2011
2010
2009
Dear Hazel-
Today is the shortest day of the year and you remain the shortest human in our family. Coincidence? Probably.
If I have been absent in writing to you, it is probably because your mom and I find ourselves VERY busy either chasing you around, getting things done that we can’t do while chasing you and resting after chasing you. All indications are that you delight in being told “No”. No jumping on the couch. No playing with the hot water spigot. No playing with the fireplace tools. No touching mommy’s computer. No touching the Christmas tree ornaments. No pulling Lincoln’s hair. No throwing things from the 2nd floor. No throwing food from your high chair. No throwing things at Lincoln. No plugging, or unplugging things to or from the wall. And much, much more. When presented with any or all of these “No’s”, you stop for a moment, consider the command and then continue doing whatever it is, or you simply reply “Whhyyy?”
Though we would love to translate the dangers in any of those things into toddlerese, please just trust me…NO!
It just doesn’t seem like you are a baby anymore! This realization is enough to make your Mommy forget what pregnancy is like and pretend that two small children is so manageable that three might actually be easier! I know, that just sounds crazy.
You are learning a lot these days. Take “No”, for instance (please). You have heard that enough that you have begun to realize it’s subtlety and power so you have claimed it as your own.
“Hazel, can I have that toy back?”…”NO!” [runs away]
or
“Hazel, let’s go potty”…”NO POTTY!” [runs away again]…(this is also a pretty good description of your potty-training progress)
or
“Hazel, eat some broccoli”…”NO BOCOLI!” [throws broccoli]
Your vocabulary has grown in leaps and bounds allowing you to form sentences that we occasionally understand.
Your favorite thing to do is repeat things, and you are so remarkably good at it that your Mommy has declared you “musical” and is already signing you up for American Idol 2027. You probably have the attitude for stardom.
Of course, those beautiful baby blues aren’t just for show. Come easter, you are going to be an egg-hunting force to be reckoned with. Each morning you are the first to find the latest landing spot for Elvis (elfin! fuddy!) our Elf on a Shelf after a 90-sec search. You are also the first to spot a train (choo choo frain), a bus (choo choo frain), the moon (moon!) or a fire truck (fire f*$@!).
Whether it is building a tower of blocks or connecting the velcro straps of your hat on your head, you are extremely proud when whatever task you have set yourself to is complete (I DID IT!). So are we, little Hazy.
It (almost) goes without saying that you and your sister love each other. That is not to say that you don’t get into your I-want-the-toy-she-has squabbles, but you and “Frace” are the best of pals with a shared interest in colorful, hairy, L’il Ponies, baby dolls, blocks and jumping on daddy until he can no longer move. No matter what the issue, you seem to be willing to set aside your differences for a hug. Keep that up.
In 31 short days (though getting longer) you will pass the baby whose age we describe in months to a little two-year-old. We realize that with that come a growing number of opinions and probably tantrums. You should know, Hazel, when you eventually learn to read and/or google yourself, that we love you VERY much and wouldn’t have you any different than the way you are.
Love,
Mommy and Daddy.
To break up the pre-school break, Grace helped her dear old dad at work for a little while before she went off Christmas shopping with Auntie Julie and Papa. In typical, take-your-daughter-to-work fashion, we raided the supply closet for pens and paper and then took a tour of the offices to prove to daddy’s co-workers that I have a good reason for bolting out the door just before at quittin’ time.
Auntie Julie returned her at the end of the day and I ALMOST forgot the best part of visiting Dad’s office…putting fingerprints all over the photocopier. Ours is about 1/10 the size of the one in MY Dad’s office in the 70′s but the joy is the same size.
