Every day, you make us laugh. Every day, you make us want to scream. You are two, and you have become so headstrong, so emotional, and so hilarious that we never know what’s going to happen from one minute to the next. The only certainty is this: most of the time, you’ll be doing something you’re not supposed to be doing; and most of the time, it’s something that annoys Lucia.
It’s amazing to watch you embrace your role as the quintessential Little Sister. You idolize Lucia—but, in your adoration, you also know exactly how best to get her goat. Sometimes you poke your finger toward her, squinching up your little face. This always gets a reaction from Lucia: “MAMA SHE’S POINTING AT ME!!! SHE’S POINTING!!!” Sometimes you actually poke her in the arm or leg, which (obviously) infuriates her. You sometimes grab whatever object she treasures most at the moment and just take off running, holding it close to your chest like a football, while Lucia screams and runs after you. You have no end game in this situation—you have to know what’s going to happen, that I’ll admonish you and stop you and make you give it back. Still, you persevere.
You annoy Lucia, but you also make her (and us) laugh. You can make Lucia laugh so hard she almost can’t breathe. Silly dances, silly babbling, silly faces—Lucia is your best audience. Your sense of humor is quirky, to say the least. Sometimes, for no reason, you’ll announce in a trembly, fearful voice, “Scared! Me scared!” When one of us asks you what you’re scared of, you say, “Chipmunk!” and then laugh hysterically.
You love to dance. You love to (try to) sing. Your talking gets better seemingly by the day: two-syllable and even some three-syllable words are clear now, and you have your ending sounds down. You’re even speaking in sentences. You haven’t had speech therapy for the past two weeks since we were in NH, and in the interim you have really digested a lot of what you’ve been working on there.
You insist on doing things yourself (“FELF.”). You pick out your clothes and pajamas. You choose your bedtime stories. You pack a bag of all your favorite snugs (Bibi, Lambie/Wee, Little People lion, Snow White bath toy, cow, four Peeps bunnies, water bottle) whenever we go downstairs in the morning or after naptime. There is no reasoning with you ever, on anything; when you insist on something, you scrunch up your face in an obvious effort to cry.
And you do cry, quite a bit, turning the tears on and off in a way your sister never did.
You are so very, very cute, little Grets, and we love you so much, and you make our daily life so splendidly amusing and so hair-tearingly difficult.
Favorite toys/activities: coloring, tiny Playmobil animals, painting rocks, swimming, playing with water, your princess dolls of all sizes, puzzles
Favorite books: The Emperor's New Clothes, The Aristocats, The Brave Little Tailor, Princess and the Pea