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)

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I have finally gotten around to posting Grace’s private Christmas concert.  Despite many distractions, she managed to get out all of one Christmas classic before things turned silly…

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For those of you without an eye for interpreting art, the thing in the middle with green arms is Grace. Everything else is candy. Duh.

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I decided this picture was far cuter than the one that went out on January 1st.  Future Grace, I apologize for the bathtub picture.  We are bound to stop doing that soon.  You may borrow the jet-pak for your date on the moon.  Hazel, you are grounded.

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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

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Today is the shortest day of the year and you remain the shortest human in our family. Coincidence? Probably.

Daredevil

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!

You’ve come a long way, baby.

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.

The eyes have it!

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*$@!).

Accomplished accomplisher

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.

Family matters

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.

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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.

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