Dear Hazel-
Wow! Two years old! What a big girl you have become.
While I’m thinking of it, I would like to ask that you take a little breather from growing up since your baby-ness is the only thing keeping your Mommy from insisting on expanding the family further. Every advance you make toward little-girlhood is another step toward becoming a middle child. Ask your aunt Christie…no one wins in that scenario.
Your accomplishments, while impressive, pale in comparison to your sense of accomplishment. To you, every stair on your way to the 2nd floor is cause for celebration as you declare “I did it!” or “I win!” in the race from the previous step. Good job! Let’s aim higher.
For your actual accomplishment list…I recently heard you count to 12 and, though you started at 5, I thought it pretty impressive…even when you refused to do an encore.
Honestly, we are still trying to figure you out. You love to climb and jump but you hate jumpy houses where climbing and jumping are the thing to do. You like what you like and not much else. Good news when we are serving pizza, lentil soup, breadsticks or bananas. Just about everything else earns a “Doan wannit!” You don’t have the usual automatic destruct mode when you come upon a tower of blocks, you seem to want to tease the blocks before knocking them across the room (this may be a note for your future therapist(s)).
Grace is still your favorite person who can do little wrong, apart from ripping toys from your hands in a fit of jealous gimme-ness. Her presence is the essential ingredient for a successful potty time, her cribside rendition of “winkle winkle” is the last thing you want to hear before you are left alone for the night with your Lovey and your Nuk Nuk. You are her biggest fan and constant foil. We hope you remain a devoted pair.
I am not allowed to risk jinxing things by recording how easy you are to put to bed and wake up every day. Let’s just say that other parents would want to rent you for a night and call it “vacation”.
Your fascination for “airfanes” and “choo choo frains” and buses and “frucks” has caused your mommy to forgo the traditional princesses and dolls and dresses this year, instead visiting the “boyish” area of the toy store for your birthday loot. Watching you open them proved that to be a very good choice.
I can’t draw this letter out, little Hazel because you are starting to wake up from your post birthday party nap. You were a completely wonderful hostess (though somewhat confused at all the fuss).
Your mommy and I (plus Grace and Lincoln) could not be happier that you landed in our lives. We love you very much.
Yayu
Daddy (and Mommy and Grace and Lincoln)